


it's exciting running through the night

by traumatic



Category: SKAM (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Alternate Universe - Childhood Friends, Bipolar Disorder, Bipolar Even Bech Næsheim, Coming Out, Drinking to Cope, Even doesn't hide his bipolar from Isak, Friends to Lovers, Internalized Homophobia, Light Angst, M/M, Mental Health Issues, Outing, Pansexual Character, References to Depression, Religion, Religious Conflict, Requited Unrequited Love, Same universe, Sexuality Crisis, Sorta???? it's got a lot to do with his mum, Swimming, Underage Drinking, emma does what emma does basically
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-04-15
Updated: 2017-05-14
Packaged: 2018-10-16 14:43:23
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 21,273
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10573407
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/traumatic/pseuds/traumatic
Summary: It's always been Isak and Even against the world. They grow up and they grow apart, but they always come back to each other.Or where, in a story told throughout the years, Isak and Even realize the only thing in this universe they know for certain is each other.





	1. beginning

**Author's Note:**

> I really wanted an unrequited to requited love story where they've known each other for a long time, so i wrote it. 
> 
> thanks for reading!
> 
> All works in the 'fraternal earths' series stand alone and are not related to each other in ANY way. Read them in any order or skip ones you don't want to read; it doesn't matter :)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sometimes, the end is just a beginning. Miraculously, Even is both Isak's end and beginning.

Isak meets Even in fourth year.

They're both quite young, still have fat rosy cheeks and the haircuts their mums chose for them, and are, at first glance, polar opposites.

Isak is loud, except for the times the fifth years pick on him, and Even's quiet, except for when he stands up for the kids who won't stand up for themselves.

And it's, well, Isak thinks nothing of Even, barely notices him when his teacher introduces him to the class as the new kid. Isak doesn't think anything of Even for a long time, as a matter of fact. Not for several months. Not until a snobby fifth year girl calls Isak ugly and short and worthless for no reason at all and Even stands right in front of Isak, eyes sharp, and tells her that she's a jerk and that she should go get a freaking life. It's then that Isak realizes the boy he'd thought nothing of is so freaking brave it burns behind his eyes like flames.

Isak then steps out from behind Even, fueled by his blind courage, and looks the snobby fifth year in the eyes and calls her an arsehole. The girl's eyes widen like she's never heard the word before and she runs off. Even laughs. Out loud.

Isak doesn't mean to, but he grins.

"Hi," Even says with blue eyes that make Isak's chest ache. "I'm Even."

Isak stares at him, can't believe he thinks Isak doesn't know his name, and wonders how a person's eyes could possibly look like passion and pain at the same time.

-

By eighth year, the fifth year girls have stopped bullying Isak and instead just want to date him. Apparently, his ugly face became cute and his legs grew considerably, so now they don't think he's worthless anymore.

Isak really doesn't care what they think, doesn't care about the silky sheen of their hair, or the way they say his name. Doesn't care about how nice their smiles are or how freely their hands roam across his skin. He doesn't care about them at all.

He does, however, care about Even.

Even jokes and says that he knew the girls were idiots, knew they'd change their minds, and Isak laughs along, but he can't get this feeling of _wrong_ out of his head. Like everything around him has been shifted 180° and no one told him. 

He doesn't discuss it with anyone. No one at all.

Who's he supposed to tell anyway? His mum? Of fucking course not.

She'd instilled a fear of people who were...different and sinned just by loving who they love from day one. She'd probably disown him if she knew he was anything but perfect.

Isak begins to wish he had Even’s mum because she's wonderful. She's understanding. She’s not a fanatic (a word Isak’s father has used, on occasion, to describe her). He wants to love his own mum, but she just makes it so _hard_ with all of her hate.

So when Even asks Isak to come over, he says yes. Every time, no matter what. He doesn't care if he's blowing Jonas off or ignoring his papa, he will always go when Even asks him to. 

They leave school together, side by side. Isak hops on to his bike and rides, pedals so fast it burns because Even’s legs are longer and stronger and faster. He laughs when Even sings the first verse to 'Breaking Free' from High School Musical because what the fuck? Who knows all the fucking words to such a terrible song? 

Isak is embarrassed for him, but he's grinning so hard his face aches more than his legs do. Even urges him to join in, the air warm and flying past Isak’s ears like he's soaring, so he does with reluctance.

He spots himself in a car mirror as he passes and is surprised by the look on his face, the shape of his smile.

It's always looked so forced, but not here. Not now. Now, his smile of effortless. Now, he's at his happiest. 

Even is Gabriella when he sings her part and Isak sings Troy’s and they harmonize and it's completely 100% shit, but Isak’s having the time of his fucking life. He'd never admit it, of course, because admitting he knows the words means he'd watched High School Musical which feels a bit close to the truth for him. He doesn't know why, though. 

They ride until the song's over, until they're standing outside Even’s house and they're tossing their bikes to the ground and running inside, still high from the flight, still laughing so hard they stumble.

When they're seated beside each other on Even’s bed and they're playing FIFA, Isak turns and stares at Even and realizes what's wrong with the girls at his school. He realizes they will never be _this_. Wind in hair, laughter so loud it aches, smiles so pure they're effortless. Nothing with a girl has ever felt like _this_ and Isak is sure it never will.

He looks over at Even, watches him play, and his vision swims in and out focus. Even's just so perfect. The girls at school are beautiful. Rationally, Isak knows this, but it doesn't matter because Even is _more_ beautiful.

He's short hair and blue eyes and firm hands and unrelenting cynical grins. He's FIFA on Wednesday nights and Nas at three in the morning. 

Isak shakes with fear at the revelation that he’s in _love_ with his fucking best friend and Even scores the winning goal, turning to laugh in Isak’s face and ask him if he's even trying at all.

Isak’s face burns and he hates to admit it, hates how the word might define him. Hates himself. Hates his mum for making his feel this terrible, awful pain where his heart is supposed to be. He squeezes the controller then drops it, and stands, looking anywhere but at Even’s face. The wall, his hands, the TV, the floor. 

He's never loved someone before. He just knows he needs to go, needs to get far, far away from Even at this moment. He just can't be here. 

“I, um, I've got to go. I just—I gotta go.”

“What?” Even frowns, reaching out for him. “What's wrong? Isak, wait—” but Isak’s already running out the door and through the hallway and he's crying and his bike stays on the soft grass in front of Even’s house because he's running so fast he forgets it and his chest pounds and his lungs burn and he ends up outside Eva’s house where he knows she's inside, knows he can trust her.

He wipes at his tears and slips through the basement window and into her room where she looks at him with surprise. She has green stuff smeared all over her mask and the room smells like sugar and seaweed. She frowns at him, eyes as kind as they've always been. 

“Isak? What's wrong?”

Isak just shakes his head and he crumbles in on himself and down onto his knees. Eva rushes forward and hugs him right, presses her face into his neck, smearing him with her mask, and just holds him as he sobs. He's embarrassed and he's afraid.

His heart feels like it's about to beat straight out of his fucking chest, like there's a fucking tiger trapped inside his ribs, clawing and biting and growling to escape.

“Shh,” she says and Isak begins to calm. “It's okay. You're okay. I promise.”

Isak looks up at her and he knows she's beautiful, knows Jonas likes her, maybe even loves her. It's just he doesn't care how beautiful she is or how nice she smells or if she's got boobs or anything.

He likes Even and _not_ in the friend way. Not in the way boys should like boys.

-

By eleventh year, Even’s got a girlfriend in the year above them and Isak’s just trying to keep his secret a secret.

They don't hang out as much because Sonja doesn't particularly enjoy Isak’s company—probably because Isak is in love with Even and she can tell.

Isak mostly hangs out with Jonas and Eva and wants to die. That's about it. He drinks a lot of soda and dreams about his mother drowning him for being a bit gay and hangs pictures of almost naked ladies on his walls. His father tries to get him to take them down, but Isak has to be sure there's no doubt, so he leaves them up and, eventually, his dad gives up.

And then, a few months later, his dad leaves. But not before Isak fucks up a relationship he had no part in because he's jealous that Jonas and Eva get to be happy and get to love each other while Isak is miserable. He completely obliterates it and he feels sorta bad, but not really. Much like Taylor Swift, he's a snake in sheep’s clothing.

He locks himself in a room and contemplates why his life is complete and totally shit while his mum locks herself in her room and screams at the top of her fucking lungs.

Isak can't take the screaming, can't take his misery, so he hops on his bike and rides away. He bikes until the sky is dark and the air is bitter. He bikes until his fingertips go numb and his cheeks burn with frostnip. He doesn't realizes he's crying until he's dropping his bike to the ground and sitting beside it on the cold, wet grass and icy droplets land on his hands. He's too exhausted to wipe at his tears, too in love with a boy to be happy, too afraid to do anything but cry.

He curls up into a ball, the frozen ground making him shiver and shake and his tears trail down on his face.

He closes his eyes and lets himself cry until he's too tired to get up. Then he sleeps.

-

Isak wakes up alone and frozen, the sun low in the sky. His fingers are red and his skin is like ice. He shivers when he stands up and looks around. Is he even in Oslo anymore?

He stands up and winces at the pain in his legs. Tips his bike up. Gets on. Rides home.

-

When Isak gets home, his mum is still locked in her room and he can hear her snores. He presses his hand against the wood of her door and sighs. He sighs so quietly it’s nothing and then he goes to his room.

He lays down on top of his mattress and thinks about Even. He imagines Sonja and Even and then just Even. He imagines getting to love him and being loved by him. It’s pathetic and it hurts worse than the blood rushing back to his fingers.

He closes his eyes and doesn’t get out of bed for two days.

-

Isak wakes to his mother’s sobs. He stares at his ceiling and tries to ignore it for several hours, but after a while, it becomes so painful to hear that he just needs to get fucking shitfaced.

So he takes a shower and puts on clean clothes before leaving. He pockets his phone and forgets to put a hat on.

He finds a bar, makes sure he thinks through his lie about his ID having been ‘left at home’, and then sits at the counter.

A man four seats down from him smiles and Isak, as exhausted as he is, finds it in him to nod and smile back. Isak turns away and fiddles with the zipper on his jacket as he waits for the bartender to come to him.

A drink is places down in front of him before he even orders. It's a martini with an olive and everything. Isak’s only ever seen one in spy movies. He sips at it and is pleasantly surprised because he usually hates olives.

Isak waits until he's finished it to order some whiskey and some vodka and some beer and he keeps going until his brain is calm and his hands are uncoordinated and he can ignore the ache in his chest.

He sits there until a ginger-haired man sits beside him. Isak looks at him drunkenly, smiles. The man smiles back. Isak remembers him because he'd messaged him on Facebook a while back out of nowhere.

“Eskild!” Isak says. “How are you?”

“Wonderful, Isak! You're obviously drunk, but how are you?”

Isak laughs and reaches for his beer. Eskild watches him drink some, sloppy, and then pulls the beer out of Isak’s reach. Isak grumbles angrily, but gives up after a moment.

“Why are you out getting drunk on a Wednesday night?”

“Why are you?” Isak shoots back.

“I'm not drunk. I was here to...meet a guy...but then I saw you and how could I ignore a friend in need?”

“We’re friends?”

Eskild just nods in response and orders Isak a water when the bartender comes back around. Isak drinks it petulantly, frowning the entire time. He’s glad he’s got a friendship he hasn’t fucked up, though. Jonas probably hates him, Eva definitely does, and Even’s been AWOL for weeks.

“So tell me,” Eskild smiles, but there’s a bite to it. “What are you doing in a gay bar?”

Isak looks around, notices the Pride flag on the wall, and is surprised he hadn’t noticed all the men kissing in various places around the bar. He shrugs.

“Didn’t know,” is all he says. “My dad left my mum. I ruined every friendship I have. I’m in love with my old best friend and my mum won’t stop fucking _crying_.”

Eskild appraises him with new eyes, looking at him without the bite or the malice and more...compassion? Understanding? Who knows. Isak surely doesn’t.

“Your hair’s very...red,” Isak says confidently. “Do you enjoy pennies?”

Eskild gives him a warning glance, but then laughs, “Quite a bit. Also carrots. Why don’t you let me walk you home, yeah? It’s after 2 and you’re completely pissed.”

“I’m not completely pissed. I’m, like, only minorly tipsy.”

“Do I need to conduct a breathalyzer exam? Shark’s got one behind the bar for when people wanna drive home.”

Isak frowns again and reaches for his beer. Eskild grins and pushes it down the bar where a man with blue eyes catches it. They share a silent communication with their eyes— Isak is too drunk to understand, but he tries— and then Eskild’s grabbing Isak’s arm and he’s leading him outside.

Isak is far too drunk to resist, so he hums along to a song only he can hear. He’s feeling a bit tired and a bit fucking cold, but Eskild doesn’t give him a moment to complain.

“What’s your address?” He asks, voice soft.

“I’m not going home. I can’t! I won’t.” Isak hopes his words come out sharp, not frantic.

He can’t go home to his mother and her crying and her fucking madness. He can’t deal with the allegations, the pain, the biblical references. He looks up at Eskild and he feels as if he could cry.

“You can’t make me go home,” he says and he’s really really trying not to cry.

Maybe Eskild gets it, maybe he doesn’t, but that doesn’t stop him from reaching for Isak’s sleeve and pulling him along.

“Noora’s gonna fucking kill me,” he sighs, but he’s smiling.

Isak smiles back, but he’s got no idea what’s going on. All he knows is that his house is in the opposite direction of where Eskild’s going and that’s all he needs to know.

Later that night when Isak is settled in Eskild’s blankets, hidden from all of his roommates, he stares at the ceiling and wonders if this is what Even feels when he's at his lowest. When nothing seems to exist except his loneliness and this aching hole of nothing but pain in his chest.

He listens to his heart hammer for a while, itches to ask Even if it's true, and eventually relents. Eskild should've taken away his phone when he took his shoes so he couldn't sneak out.

* * *

 

To: Even at 03:32

can you explain what depression feels like? i  
think I'm experiencing it

From: Even at 03:33

it's like there's nothing in the world that matters. Nothing  
can fill this....insatiable void in your chest and everuthing   
feels flimsy, temporary. You ache and feel so fucking alone  
and you don't want to hurt anyone  but sometimes even   
getting out of bed is too much. Sometimes all you want to   
do is not exist. even die

at least for me it is. it's different for everyone. 

To: Even at 03:35

thanks for answering 

i know it's been a while since we talkd

it's my fault though ebcause i'mso fuckin stupid

From: Even at 03:36

can we talk tomorrow? we could skip last hour and get some pizza?

To: Even at 03:36

sounds okay, man, just remind me bc im sorta   
drunk rn and i possibly won't remember

From: Even at 03:37

i'll set a reminder

"Ask Isak out for pizza when he's hungover and grumpy"

To: Even at 03:37

:/

From: Even at 03:38

:)

* * *

 

  

-

Isak’s alarm blares to wake him up. He reaches his phone with a grumble, head pounding behind his eyes. He feels like death.

He sits up and rubs his eyes, looking around. Where is he? A basement?

Then he vaguely remembers Eskild mentioning Noora and bringing him blankets. He's in their basement.

He stands up and gets his phone, starting his sleepy, half-awake walk back to his house to change and shower and brush his teeth.

He also takes some pain meds and follows it with some water. He sort of wants to crawl back into Eskild’s basement when he spots his dad’s leftover stuff scattered around the living room.

He picks up a pair of trousers from the floor and thinks about what Even had said about not wanting to exist.

He thinks he understands Even a little better because he feels _it_ like a chill in his bones.

-

School is school. He's not particularly feeling involved or educational, so mostly he tries to stay awake. Last hour comes around and he slips out of class to meet Even.

He remembers the conversation enough to know they'd going out for pizza. He meets Even at the edge of campus and they walk silently, the music from Even’s earphones filling the silence.

When they get there, the place is half empty. There's one group of kids their age by the counter, so they take a window seat. A waitress comes and takes their order soon after.

They've yet to speak to one another. Even keeps looking at him, probably sees the dark circles beneath his eyes, the quiet exhaustion that's settled into his bones. He analyses Isak’s every breath for a long time before he speaks. Isak isn't uncomfortable with the staring.

Even’s done that his entire life with Isak.

“Halla,” He says. “How are you?”

Isak just stares at him. Stares and stares until his eyes want to close to sleep.

“Tired,” is what he says, but what he means is exhausted. Extremely fatigued. Close to passing out. “You?”

Even doesn't respond, just nods and then they have their drinks. Soda for Isak, something slightly too orange to be Crush. It's probably generic. Even gets water with a slice of lemon floating inside the glass.

“Why did you disappear?” Even whispers after several moments, watching the lemon bounce around the confines of the cup. “You're my best friend and you just...disappeared.”

“I...I had some shit to work through and I...thought distance might help. It didn't, of course. I still ended up drunk texting you. I fucked everything up with everyone I care about. Eva, Jonas, my mum. You. I’m sorry.”

Even sighs and drinks his water. Isak feels a bit like his appendix is about to rupture.

“I forgive you, Isak.”

“I don't deserve it.”

“Yes, you do because I distanced myself, too. I started dating Sonja and I...it's not that I chose her over you, but I sorta did and you, along with our infamous Shit Movie Sundays, got lost in her storm.”

Isak’s heart flutters a bit. It wakes him up just a tad. His blood pumps faster.

“I...love her, but she took control. She just took over. She acts more like a mum than a girlfriend. ‘Did you take your meds? Have you eaten? Did you drink anything? You're not smoking, are you?’. She's driving me mad.”

“Sounds like your mum.”

Isak tries the laugh, but it comes out flat.

“How is she, by the way?”

“Misses you. Hates Sonja. Nothing new, really,” Even’s grin is infectious.

Isak has to drink his soda to hide his smile.

“She hates her?”

“Hell yeah. Doesn't like having competition in mothering me, I guess.”

Isak actually laughs at that and the tension in the air shatters like glass. Even grins back and then the waitress is dropping off their pizza.

“Can we get this to go, actually?” Even asks and Isak frowns at him.

The waitress nods, a little frazzled, and goes away for a moment to come back with a box and their bill.

“Pay at the counter,” she smiles and leaves them to place the pizza in the box.

“What—”

“You're gonna come say hi to mum so she gets off my arse. We're gonna have some pizza and then we'll play some video games. We’ll watch some movies, too, maybe.”

-

Isak’s return to Even’s house after months is like rain in a drought. He didn't realize how much he’d missed this place. It feels more like home than his own house.

“Isak!” Even’s mother shouts when she sees him and crushes him in a hug. “Where have you been!?”

“Around.”

“Even’s been grumpy. I'm glad you're back,” she whispers into his ear. 

“Heard you don't like Sonja,” he whispers back.

“I don't.”

Isak pulls back and grins. She grins back.

“Is that pizza?” She grabs the box from Even’s hands with a smirk.

Later, when they've settled on Even’s bed with full stomachs and are watching National Treasure—if Nick Cage wasn't so...Nick Cage-ish, it would be a good movie. Isak happens to enjoy it, but Even insists it _only_ belongs on Shit Movie Sundays—Even turns toward Isak and sighs.

“There's something I gotta tell you. I'm into guys, too. I haven't quite figured out the label yet—pansexual? Bisexual? I don't know—but I'm into dick, too.”

“Oh,” Isak says, his heart hammering in his chest. “Cool.”

“Isn't it?”

And then they watch, but Isak’s now 100% aware of how warm Even’s skin is, of how close they sit, touching in every place from their shoulders to their feet. Isak tries not to, but he's sure his face is red. Fuck.

Even leans his head on Isak’s shoulder and now they're touching everywhere. Things were easier when they were kids and this didn't mean anything. They were just best friends, they loved each other. There weren't any complications, no Sonja or indecipherable feelings. They were just Isak and Even and they lived for the small things. A warm day to swim, a snowy day to play, a sunny day to bike ride. Now Isak’s gone and fucked up another thing. Jonas, Eva, his parents, and now Even.

After a while, Isak’s throat feels like it's stuck together with glue. Like he can't swallow unless he says what he feels, tells Even the exact thing he's hidden from everyone. He doesn't, though, just stays quiet and listens to Even complain about Nicholas Cage because he can’t destroy what Sonja and Even have. He won’t.

-

Isak wakes up in Even’s bed. Even’s beside him, snoring just a little, hand over his chest, legs tangled with Isak’s. Isak just looks at him, breathes in and out, watches, makes sure Even’s asleep.

“I’m in love with you,” he says and it makes him feel just a little better. “Have been for a long time.”

Isak sighs and untangles their feet to curl up in a ball beside Even. His heart’s still beating, Even’s still sleeping. Everything’s okay and Isak _will_ be okay.

He doesn’t go back to sleep, though, just looks at the picture of baby-faced Isak that hangs on the wall and wonders if he always looked so happy as a kid. He tries to picture the photos in the frames hanging from the walls in his house and can’t remember one single one that he looked so fucking exuberant in that had nothing to do with Even.

Maybe Isak’s always loved Even. Maybe he always will.

He sighs again. Even turns over in his sleep and his arm accidentally wraps around Isak’s stomach and tugs him closer. Isak stops breathing, listening for signs that Even’s awake, but there’s no perceptible change in his breath or face.

Isak realizes every muscle in his body is tensed, waits for Even to wake up or move off or something, but then remembers they used to do this all the time. They’re best friends, for fuck’s sake, no matter how Isak feels.

So he forces his body to relax and pulls the blanket to Even’s chin. He thinks about texting his mother, telling her he won’t be coming back, but can’t bring himself to open the messages she’d sent about sins and God.

Instead, he wonders where he’ll go from here. Will he find somewhere to stay? Or will he suffer through his mum’s madness, her screams? He’s not sure he can, to be honest.

He closes his eyes and allows the weight of Even’s arm and the heat of his skin lull him to sleep.

-

When Isak wakes up, the sun’s high in the sky and Even’s arms are tight and unrelenting. Isak groans when he tries to move, to break free from his grasp, but Even just laughs and drags him closer, noses so close there’s hardly any space between them at all.

“I missed you,” Even says and there’s an emotion in his eyes that Isak can’t decipher.

“I missed you, too.”

Even smiles, but it’s halfhearted. Isak gets ready for the emotional conversation they're about to have.

“I mean it. I really...You’re a big part of my life, Isak, you can’t just disappear.”

Isak knows, he does. He just hadn’t realized his disappearance had hurt Even so deeply. He tries to apologize, but Even shushes him.

“And I’m sorry I didn’t try harder to stay connected with you. It’s just...there’s a whole _thing_ with Sonja and—”

“Even,” Isak interrupts. “It's my fault, you twat. I had this stupid...thing. I had a mental breakdown.”

“Okay.”

That answer doesn't settle Even, Isak can tell. His grip is still tight like if he lets go, Isak’ll flee like he did that one time. He’ll vanish and this tiny space they’ve created, these few millimetres of space between their faces, will evaporate into nothing. Isak is almost 110% sure he’s not going anywhere. Not when there’s only enough room between them for their breath, warm and soft.

He’s trying his best not to, but he's sure he sounds breathless. Isak can't stop staring, either. He hopes Even doesn't notice.

“I...hereby nominate Sharknado 2 for Shit Movie Sunday this week.”

“What?” Isak frowns, already beginning to object. “I—”

“No! Isak, it's _supposed_ to be awful! You can't justify a movie _made_ for mediocrity!”

-

Isak spends the next day with Even. They watch Moonlight—“a cinematic masterpiece, Isak!”—and for once, Isak agrees.

Even's mum makes spaghetti so they have dinner in the dining room, spending an hour catching up and laughing about stupid shit Even’s done and the even more stupid shit Isak has. It's a perfect night, or it is until Isak’s phone rings with another bible reference from his mum. Somehow, this one's eerily specific.

He accidentally opens it in his haste to delete it and has to stare at the words, utterly speechless. How has this gotten so bad? How had he let it?

* * *

 

From: mum at 18:49

and the LORD will come down from the HEAVENS  
and turn upon the SINNERS His ALMIGHTY WRATh  
REPENTING is the ONLY OPTION for SALVATION 

* * *

 

Isak can feel Even gaze like a physical weight on his shoulders, but doesn't acknowledge him. Just slides his phone back into his pocket and eats the rest of his food in silence.

Even and Isak wash the dishes while Evan's mum puts the leftovers away. The silence isn’t heavy, thankfully, so no one really pays much mind to Isak. When they’re done, Even answers a call from Sonja and Isak pretends not to care.

It’s not his place to feel heartache. He tries desperately to get the jealousy and pain to stop, but to no avail.

Isak doesn’t want to go home, but doesn’t want to impose. He wonders if Eskild would take him in for another day, if Noora would care. He’s going to have to find somewhere else to stay because he can’t take his mother’s torment on top of his own.

When Even returns, it’s with a sigh. He takes a running jump onto the bed, jarring Isak so suddenly that he shrieks a little. Even laughs heartily and Isak’s heart momentarily stops its never ending ache.

“You’re staying, aren’t you?” Even asks while he reaches to poke Isak in the ribs. “If so, you should shower. You’re more than a bit smelly.”

Isak rolls his eyes and huffs. He doesn’t fucking smell. Or, well, not really. Actually, maybe he does. Just a bit.

“Shut up.”

“Great rebuttal. I’ll have to think for an incredibly long time to come up with one for that. While you wait, feel free to use the facilities. There's shampoo under the sink.”

-

Even, as lovely and beautiful as he is, has his flaws. Sometimes, he forgets cheese in his bag and it melts all over the damn place or he locks himself out of his house. Other times he walks around with a joint behind his ear and it’s a little reckless—and totally 100% not good for him—but that's what makes Even Even.

Isak loves him with all of these reasons in mind, but there's one thing he can't get over—the fucking worry in his eyes.

They settle down on Even's bed and have the music playing loud enough to bother Even's neighbours. Isak sits there with his face toward the ceiling, his phone on his stomach, and closes his eyes.

“Isak,” Even says, poking his arm, “talk to me.”

Isak sighs and turns toward Even, hands supporting his face. His mind’s just so full of thoughts. There's no room for it all anymore, so Isak lets some out.

“My mum’s gone off the deep end. Papa...he left and she locked herself in her room and all she does is scream and cry and throw shit around and doesn't care that I'm struggling with more than I ever should've had to while she's sending me texts foreshadowing the end of the world. She keeps saying God’s coming to take his revenge on the sinners, on the people she's pushed hate on forever. It's only recently become completely fucking unbearable. I can't even tell her goodnight or where I am without getting asked to repent before bed. I love her, you know, but she's just making it so goddamn _hard_!”

Even just looks at him, a look on his face that is indecipherable. Isak looks back.

“Can I see them?” he asks and Isak hands him the phone without hesitating for a second.

Even scrolls through them, eyebrows furrowed, lips pursed. All Isak can think is how fucking beautiful he is.

“Well, at least she's consistent.”

Isak doesn't say anything, just closes his eyes. He needs to go on holiday or something. Jesus.

“How am I ever going to go home to that? I'm sure that by now the house is destroyed. She's probably scratched papa out of all the pictures. I can't go home to that. I'll have to find somewhere else—”

“You can stay here.”

“No, I can't. Not indefinitely. I couldn't put you out like that.”

Even sighs, “Isak, come on. We've practically lived together since 4th year. Mum would love to have you around. _I’d_ love to have you around.”

Isak debates it in his head. Homeless, squatting in Eskild’s basement or staying with his best mate in a house that feels like home.

“Okay.”

Even grins, wide and so fucking adorable it makes Isak’s cheat ache. Isak grins back.

“Good.”

Even's phone rings and Isak’s heart drops when he sees the screen. Sonja.

She certainly won't be happy about the arrangement. Even ignores her, though, presses deny and continues to lay beside Isak.

Isak begins to think the only _good_ thing in his life is Even.


	2. middle

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Every story has a middle and theirs is no different. Some things are meant to be forgotten.

Twelfth year is something completely different from every year of school Isak’s ever had.

His friend group’s tripled in size practically overnight and it’s pretty cool because Isak’s never really been great at making friends. Magnus and Mahdi are Jonas’ friends and then they’re his and it’s awesome. Mahdi likes waffles and Magnus enjoys kinky, questionable sex, though he never has any. It's super okay.

Even takes to his new friends like they’ve been around for decades, falling into conversations about anything as easy as if he’d been reading a script. Isak wishes he himself was that effortless. Conversations feel so stilted sometimes, like he’s trying too hard or not trying enough. Though those conversations are usually about things Isak doesn’t particularly care for, like olives or skipping lectures or fucking girls.

Sana knew Even before he transferred to Nissan, so their friendship clicks right back into place, and she becomes another member in their giant group. Her brother’s friends show up sometimes, but they go to Bakka and Even gets mildly embarrassed in their presence because of the revue thing. Everyone tells him it’s not a big deal, but he cares too much and Isak would rather die than make Even do something that makes him uncomfortable.

Parties in the summer are fucking killer. Isak would even go as far as to say they’re lit and he doesn’t use that word lightly.

When school’s just a few days out, Even hosts a party at his house and it’s loud and drunken and fucking amazing. Except, of course, Sonja comes.

Isak sometimes forgets she’s even there, that she’s even Even's girlfriend. Whenever he sees them together, it hits him harder each time, like a punch in the face. So when she walks in, Isak makes himself scarce.

He’d rather not see Even’s hello kiss or the way his hands press into her hips when they dance. Honestly, he’s good.

So he finds his other friends and sits in a bathtub with his hip pressed against Jonas’ and smokes. He knows Even’ll be a bit perturbed when he finds out Isak hadn’t invited him, but he just can’t find it in himself to care.

It’s better Even doesn’t smoke, anyway. It’ll give Isak _some_ peace of mind.

“Dude, dude,” Magnus says, taking his goddamn time. “I had this dream—”

Isak groans. He knows he’s about to hear some shit about an absolutely wild, vaguely disgusting, heterosexual wet dream.

“—about Even!”

Isak had begun to tune out, but he jumps back in the minute he hears Even’s name, a complete force of habit.

“What?” He says and his friends burst into laughter

“Yeah, he tried to, like, kiss me and I was totally fucking weirded out but for some reason I agreed? I don’t know. It was fuckin’ hot, is all I know. I was totally into it...and then, like, I woke up and remembered it was Even and I wouldn’t ever actually want him like that, but _holy shit_.”

Isak can’t do anything but stare at all of his friends, watch for some semblance of judgment on their faces, but there’s none. They look as if this is normal, like they’ve all dreamt of Even and kissing and it hits Isak really hard because his friends are fucking...he doesn’t even know a word for them.

He sits there and lets Magnus recount the events in disgusting detail—who the fuck remembers their dreams this vividly? Isak can barely remember a brief synopsis of his—and tries just to breathe.

Apparently, everyone’s attracted to Even. It’s not even a little surprising because he’s fucking beautiful.

The bathroom door opens when Jonas switches the conversation to another party he’d heard about on Saturday night where a fight had broken out.

The girls that walk inside take one glance at them and scoff, rustling through the contents of Even’s bathroom cabinets. Isak looks at them questioningly, wondering how someone could feel comfortable enough in another person’s home to search their drawers for drugs.

“Is this it?” One girl says to the other.

“We got _so_ fucked up last time. I think it is.”

Isak catches a glimpse of the box in her hands. It’s fucking _Zyrtec_. Can’t she see it says allergy pills right on the front of the box?

Isak’s friends look at her and he can tell she’s beautiful. He can recognize the traits in her. He can also tell his friends think she’s beautiful. So he knows he has to be the one.

He doesn’t want to, really he doesn’t, but he has to force this hetero-bullshit image so no one ever questions his sexual orientation until he’s ready, so he smirks and it physically hurts him to do so. Dread fills his limbs.

“Hey,” he says and she turns to him. “Do you know who you look like?”

“Yeah,” she says with an extreme overuse of attitude. “I do.”

“The, uh, little girl from Stranger Things? The one that resembles a boy? Eleven. That’s who you look like.”

Isak’s boys choke on their laughter. Isak’s just trying not to run away or reveal the panic that’s settled under his skin.

He wishes he didn’t have to do this, didn’t have to fake a sexuality, wasn’t so fucking afraid of what everyone would think if he just came out with it.

The girl gives him an incredulous look, “Seriously?”

“I’m Isak.”

For some fucking reason, the girl actually responds with her name. Emma.

“I was kidding. Really. You’re beautiful.”

The girl’s friend scoffs and tries to get Emma to leave, but she stays. Apparently she likes when boys are mean to her. Which is so completely fucked.

“Do you know how these work?”

“Those’ll put you to bed. You need something fun.”

“Do you have that?”

Isak places a pill on his tongue, glances at his friends to make sure they’re watching. If they weren’t, he’d cut the act short. Say something he knows would upset her so she’d storm out and he could have a good laugh with his friends about how bad his ‘game’ is. But they _are_ watching, attention focused solely on the conversation. Isak looks back at Emma, pill balanced on the top of his tongue.

She grins and Isak feels nothing. She leans in, Isak feels the emptiness in his chest. She kisses him and he feels only on the surface, wants vaguely to push her off, but doesn’t. Instead, he kisses her back. He winds his hands up her arms and pretends, thinks about the first day of school and classes and all the shit he has to do before then.

He hears his friends get up. Opens his right eye to watch them leave. Wants to go with them. Doesn’t.

Emma pulls back, gives him a look Isak guesses is supposed to be seductive, and falls to her knees, fingers reaching for the zipper on Isak’s jeans. He looks down at her and is struck by the realization that she probably wouldn’t be able to pull his pants down because they’re too tight.

He almost laughs.

Instead, he grabs her hands and forces her to stop. He doesn’t want her. In fact, he’s never been less turned on. His dick has never been so soft.

“No, please. Stop.”

“What?” Emma scoffs, still reaching out to touch him. “Come on.”

“I’m serious! Stop. I don’t want this. Fucking _stop_!” Isak shouts.

No means fucking no. God. Isak stumbles backwards away from her, eyes wide, fear coursing through his veins.

“Are you—”

 _“No!”_ Isak says and he sounds so fucking desperate because he’s not, he can’t be, she can’t fucking know. “Emma, no.”

“You are! What the fuck, Isak? It’s 2016! No one’s gonna fucking judge you for being—”

 _“I’m not!_ Stop!”

Isak’s close to breaking down. He suddenly can’t fucking breathe, though his chest is expanding and his lungs are taking in air and his pulse pounds in his ears like church bells. He tries to go, to run away, but he trips over his own feet and crumbles to the ground, jarring his head so hard his vision flashes black around the edges.

Emma reaches for him, but he shouts at her to go, to get out, and she does. She just fucking leaves Isak on the bathroom floor like the piece of rubbish he is and he can’t even blame her.

He curls up into a ball and tries to breathe, to calm the fuck down. After a while, he does, but he knows it’s all over.

Someone knows. _Emma_ knows. A fucking _tenth_ year knows and Isak knows how desperate some of them are for attention. A gay rumour is just what she could use to her advantage. And it wouldn’t even be a rumour because it’s _true._

Isak is gay and he’s also fucking terrified.

-

Sana finds him a while later.

She steps into the bathroom and frowns at him from the door. He just looks at her, feeling pathetic and disgusting and exhausted.

“What’re you doing?” She asks, closing the door.

She doesn’t move toward him and he’s grateful. He needs space to breathe. To calm down.

“Nothing.”

“Funny,” she says with an unimpressed frown, “‘cause it looks like you’re taking a nap on the bathroom floor.”

Isak presses his lips together and gathers the strength to sit up. He hopes Sonja’s gone. He hopes everyone is.

Honestly, he just wants to fucking sleep.

“Do you need to pee?” Isak asks, suddenly aware of the room he’s in.

“No...I was just gonna…”

Isak waits for her response because he wants to know, to draw attention away from himself.

“Wudhu. I have to use the sink.”

“Oh,” Isak says. “Okay. I’ll leave you to it, then. If you need somewhere quiet, you can use the room next door. I’ll unlock the door for you, yeah? Just make sure to lock it before you leave.” He knows she won’t be wearing her shoes in there, so he isn’t worried about the white carpet beneath Even's mum's bed.

Isak struggles to stand, but manages with the help of the edge of the bathtub. Sana nods at him, appraises him with her eyes, and turns toward the sink.

Isak takes one more glance at her and turns to leave. When he opens the door, loud music pours in. Justin Bieber. Isak wants to die.

“Thanks,” he hears Sana say and he smiles a bit.

“No problem, Sanasol.”

-

The party ends and everyone leaves around 4. Isak sits on the couch and watches as everyone goes.

The house is a mess and the music is still loud. Isak is just glad the attention isn't on him.

“Good party,” Even says in his ear, sliding down the arm of the couch to sit obscenely close to him, touching from shoulder to toe.

Isak flushes. His pulse soars. He moves a bit away when he catches Emma’s eye in the crowd.

“Though one of the hosts seemed to disappear for most of the night.”

“He was getting high in the bathroom,” Isak replies.

It’s easier to talk about himself in the third person sometimes, like he’s narrating a story and not living a life. He knows it’s weird.

“Without his best mate?! How rude!” Even fakes anger and then grins.

Isak looks back over at Emma, catches the tail end of her smile, and can’t help but to compare it to Even’s.

Where hers is all sharp edges, the bitter bite of malice with closed lips and open eyes, Even’s is soft and wonderful and beautifully exquisite. His eyes squint, smiling so hard it wrinkles his entire face, teeth on display.

Polar opposites. It’s no wonder Isak’s in love with one and couldn’t care less about the other.

“Hello? Isak, where’d you go?” Even nudges his knee.

“Sorry. I’m just...tired,” Isak rubs at his eyes. “Where’s Sonja?”

Even presses the heel of his palm against his left eye and sighs. His eyes are heavy with his own exhaustion.

Suddenly, Isak understands that they’re both going through shit. They have to be there for each other no matter what. That’s what friends are for, after all.

“She left. I...It’s not working out, you know? We just...I told her I needed space and she accused me of cheating on her...and it’s almost like I did? Emotionally.”

Isak looks at him with soft eyes. He wants to understand, but Even’s being vague. Isak nudges his knee with his own and Even looks at him, hesitancy as plain as day on his face.

“What do you mean?”

“I...I should’ve, like, focused more on our relationship. It used to be effortless—us. But we both have to put in so much fucking work to be with each other and I’m just so fucking tired, you know? I don’t want to try. I shouldn’t have to.”

Isak looks at him consolingly. He’s not good with other people’s emotions, but this is Even, so he wraps his arms around him and squeezes. Even’s arms immediately wind around Isak.

There’s so much familiarity with them. Isak knows exactly where he fits in Even’s life. Not quite in his armpits, but higher than his waist. Head over his heart. Nose against his chest.

And Even knows just where he fits in Isak’s—nearly his waist, not quite his hips, head resting near Isak’s.

“I love you,” Even says softly.

Isak’s heart preens and his pulse soars. He knows Even means it in a different way than what Isak feels, but it doesn’t matter. Not when Even’s skin is pressed against his and his nose is in his hair and everything is glowing bright like a sunrise.

“I love you, too.”

-

School is school.

He sits in biology and Sana sits beside him. Their professor, a tall woman with an affinity for white shirts, wears no bra. Isak’s more confused than anything.

He has maths with Jonas and shares a study hour with Even. Unfortunately, it’s a quiet class, but at least Isak can sit beside him and pass notes. He also shares Norwegian with Magnus and Mahdi.

He feels truly human with his nose in a textbook. That plus the routine of it all makes him feel a bit better.

Isak’s waiting at his locker at the end of the day for Even when he hears his name coming from another person’s mouth. He looks up and spots two girls whispering to each other, faces concealed from the chin down by a notebook like it’s going to stop the sound waves.

“Emma said he’s...you know... _gay_.”

Isak’s mouth dries up. They say it like it's a curse word. Isak tries and fails to think of what Even would say to them if he'd heard.

“I wouldn’t believe any shit she says,” the other girl scoffs. “She’s a habitual liar.”

“True.”

Isak turns and stares inside his locker. He rests his hand on the shelf and just blinks. He can’t believe she’d tried to _out_ him. Sure, it’s 2016, but does the year really have anything to do with not being a complete _arsehole?_ Just because more people are accepting now than ever before doesn’t make it right for her to pull him out of the closet. Especially when he’s so obviously not ready.

He leans his head against the cool metal and sighs.

“Heard an interesting rumour about you today,” Even says as he steps next to Isak, so close he can feel his breath on his neck.

Isak freezes, muscles all pulled taut. He’d have liked to have been the one to fucking tell Even, but Emma had apparently taken that away from him. He knows Even would rather die than judge him, but it’s somehow too close to the fact Isak’s in love with him, so his pulse quickens.

“Like what?” Isak manages to say, but he’s close to being unable to breathe.

“That you’re not coming to Noora’s thing on Friday! How could you not tell me? I don’t want to go alone!”

Isak feels a weight slip from his chest. He’d told Noora he’d think about it, actually, because he had planned on going home to tell his mum he wasn’t ever coming back again, but now that feels like an impossible task. His mother had started another onslaught of religious and hateful texting.

“I was going to go see my mum...but then decided not to. Plus I heard Vilde invited Elias and his friends from Bakka...so I didn’t think you’d be going either?”

“I…”

“We could just...hang out if you want? I'm not really in a party mood.”

Even pauses for a moment and then breaks into a wide grin full of sunshine and happy eyes, “Fat Food Friday!”

They haven't done that in _years._ God. Isak’s nodding before he even realizes it, smiling back at Even with the same potency that his gives off.

“What'll we get? McDonald's and then kebab? Ice cream for dessert? Then pass out on my bed in food comas?”

Fat Food Fridays used to be _iconic._ They took place every couple Fridays when Isak’s parents would give him money for dinner and Even's parents would give him money, too. So they'd spend it trying out new restaurants until they were so full they could barely ride their bikes home. Then they'd pass out for a few hours until it was time for them to go home.

“There's a new Chinese restau a couple streets over. I demand to try their spring rolls.”

“Alright. I'll add that to our itinerary,” Even’s still grinning and so is Isak.

Even makes him forget his worries, helps him feel weightless.

“Ill pick you up at eight. Wear something...business casual,” Even winks.

Or he tries to, at least. Even's never been great at winking. It's more like he blinks.

“Of course, Mr. Næsheim,” Isak says softly, smiling timidly. “Any other requests?”

“No tie unless it’s a bow tie. I don't want to see a fucking Windsor knot anywhere _near_ my food. It'll _completely_ spoil the mood.”

-

Biology the next day is weird.

When Isak sits down beside Sana, she's on her phone scrolling down someone's Instagram.

It takes Isak a moment to place the face—he doesn't know that Bakka boys _that_ well—but then he realizes it's Yousef and he can't stop grinning.

Sana’s got a crush! She probably waxes poetic about him in her head! Or writes songs about his dancing. Or maybe she sketches or something.

She's always seem artistic to Isak. He doesn't know why.

“Yousef?” He says, looking at her, grinning.

She startles and drops her phone onto the desk, glaring up at him. Her lipstick is dark plum today. It’s a lovely colour on her.

“Don't even start!” She warns. “I was just...browsing.”

“For what? A _boyfriend?”_

She turns to glare at him again and he laughs a little. He can because they're friends. If they weren't, he wouldn't _dare._

She sighs and holds up her finger, points at the teacher, and Isak relents. He's not going to push her to tell him.

“You know I'm here if you want to talk. I know a lot about boys, considering I am one,” _and I, too, like them._

She doesn't say anything or acknowledge him in any way, but there's a small smile on her lips and that's all that matters.

-

Isak hangs with Jonas on Thursday and they get high.

While Isak feels like he's changed infinitely, getting high with Jonas always feels the same.

They order pizza and sit close to the window and they smoke and everything's okay for those few hours.

Unfortunately, Isak’s mum is relentless tonight. Every few moments, his phone is vibrating with a new bible verse.

* * *

 

From: mum at 03:13

GOD forgives those who TRESPASS AGAINST US

PRAY FOR FORGIVENESS AND IT SHALL BE GRANTED

TO YOU

From: mum at 08:32

ISAK BEG for GOD'S FORGIVENESS BECAUSE HE IS

THE ONLY ONLY ONLYY ONE WHO CAN GIVE IT TO YOU

From: mum at 13:15

Isak remember he is YOUR GOD

From: mum at 20:10

do NOT use the Lord's name in VAIN

RESPECT THE SABBATH DAY

HONOUR THY MOTHER AND FATHER

YOU SHALL HAVE NO OTHER GODS BEFORE HIMM

MAN SHALL NOT LAY WITH MANKIND AS HE LAY WITH

WOMENKIND IT IS AN ABOMINATION

RESPECT YOUR GOD iSAK

* * *

 

Jonas ignores it for a while, but he glances at him with his ‘I’m not judgmental but what the fuck’ look when she messages for the 20th time in just as many minutes.

“Who is that?” He asks.

“My mum.”

“And you aren't answering her, why?”

“She's fucking crazy, man. I can't read anymore of her shit.”

“Is she taking her meds?” Jonas starts to eat another piece of pizza.

How many has Isak had? He hopes not too many because he sort of feels like puking. Jonas is so high he’d probably laugh until he throws up, too.

“Don’t know. Haven’t seen her since...you know.”

Jonas nods and Isak gets another message. This one’s from Vilde.

He only panics a little bit. Vilde is a known gossip and if Isak can convince her, she’ll spread the news of how heterosexual Isak is pretending to be. Okay. He's got this.

* * *

 

From: Vilde at 20:39

Hey, just asking because Emma's spreading rumours, but are you gay?

It's totally fine if you are!

I love gays!

To: Vilde at 20:41

I'm not. She's just mad that I didn't want to hook up with her the other night.

From: Vilde at 20:42

Oh okay! Sorry for the mixup!

Are you coming to Noora's tomorrow night? She and Eva are cohosting!!!!

To: Vilde at 20:43

No. I've got a thing. 

From: Vilde at 20:43

Oh okay. Is Even coming?

If so, ask him to bring Sonja! She's awesome! 

* * *

 

-

On Friday, Isak and Even decide to order in instead because they'd rather lounge ‘round in their pyjamas than go out and be social beings.

They listen to music with their heads dangling off the opposite edges of Even’s bed. Isak feels the most comfortable, the most at home, in moments like this. Moments of full bellies and loud music and silence and _Even_.

The song changes to a gross, overplayed pop song—Isak knows Even loves Gabrielle, but _seriously_ —and Even turns to Isak, grins, mouths a couple lines. He presses pause on his phone and the music stops, Isak stops. Hell, the entire world probably stops.

“Let's move in together,” Even says and then he grins.

“We already live together, idiot,” Isak nudges his shoulder. “But, sure. Sounds great.”

“Also, I'd like to ask you a favour. It's… you don't have to say yes, okay? I'm only asking because I don't know anyone else that I trust more. I sorta wrote a script? I, uh,” he pauses. Looks nervous.

Isak nods for him to continue. Even clears his throat and sighs.

“I want to make a movie out of it. And I need someone to play the male lead.”

Isak’s eyes widen. He knows Even’s always been a great film critic and he's worked on small videos before, but a full film? And with actual humans? Isak isn't sure he's cut out for acting.

“Even,” Isak says and he has every intention of saying no, but the look in Even's eyes is enough to change Isak’s answer at the last second. “Okay. What's it about?”

-

Later that night, when Isak is nearly asleep, he feels Even’s fingers brush his hair back from his face. It's a gesture Even’s done a lot, so it barely disturbs him at all.

“I was serious,” he whispers and Isak looks up at him. “About the flat. We should do it.”

Isak smiles a little and nods. His eyes are heavy, but he tries to stay awake long enough to listen to Even. He wants to hear every last sleepy word.

“We’ll get a tiny flat. A kitchen and a bedroom and a bathroom. Do we need two bedrooms?” He asks and then answers himself. “Only if we can afford it. It's not a big deal otherwise. In fact, I like having an Isak Valterson in my bed. You should be sold at Ikea at an _exorbitant_ rate.”

Isak laughs a little, holding onto every single word. Even’s voice is so beautiful. Even is so beautiful. Isak is so fucked.

“We will, of course, have to find a place with a washing machine so our bed doesn't smell like stale crisps, which is apparently your natural scent.

“Mum’ll cry when we go, but she'll be happy for us. She’ll even buy us a set of dishes and stuff, but we won't use it.”

“Why not?”

“Who's going to wash them? It certainly won't be me and I know for a fact you're practically _incapable_ of doing so.”

“Is that right?” Isak’s awake enough to tease him.

“Oh, yes. Then you'll invite your boys over and Magnus will invite Vilde and Vilde’ll invite the entire school and then some and we'll have the best fucking party ever held. Better than anything those shit Penetrators have ever even thought of. Sana’ll come and so will her brother and his friends—”

“Sanasol’s got a thing for Yousef, you know.”

“Really?” Even’s smile is blinding. “I could totally see that. Except. Well, you know Yousef’s not Muslim, right?”

“What?” Isak says softly. “I thought he—”

“He doesn’t believe in it. Much like you, he believes science over history.”

Isak makes a surprised noise. Does Sana know?

“It’s not something he advertises, you know? But he doesn’t believe.”

Isak nods softly and thinks about how close Even used to be to them. How Mikael had been Even’s best friend even over Isak, which really should’ve been an accomplishment, and then he wasn't anything.

He knows the synopsis of what went down with the Bakka boys, but he wants clarification on why Even doesn’t want to talk to them. So he asks.

“Can I ask you something?” Isak mumbles, looking into Even’s eyes.

He’s curious and is too tired for personal boundaries. Besides the point, Even doesn’t have to answer anyway.

“Go ahead.”

“Why don’t you hang out with the Bakka boys anymore? They’re pretty cool, from what I’ve seen. They don’t look like the type to hold onto a grudge.”

Even takes a moment to think about it. He looks at Isak and presses his lips together in a strained smile. Isak presses his knuckles against his arm consolingly.

“I’m mostly embarrassed. I...The episode was a little...It was bad, yeah? It’s not like you don’t know. You were there. But sometimes...my illness takes good things and murders them. It tramples all over everything until there’s nothing left in its wake and it just feels so...infinite, like it’ll never end. I feel terribly for posting that crazy shit all over the Facebook page, but I couldn’t help it and I’m just...I’m worried they won’t understand and I’m also super fucking embarrassed about it. I don't want to have to explain myself because I don't want to have to come out as bipolar again.”

Isak doesn't know what to say. He looks up at Even and smiles sadly.

“I'm sure they won't even remember! I don't want to, like, pressure you into anything, but it's important to forgive and forget. I'm sure Elias and the rest of them will understand and I know you miss them. You and Mikael were super close!”

Even looks down at Isak and smiles a little. Isak smiles back. He's glad they're having this talk. It needed to be said because the Bakka boys are, eventually, going to be full members of Isak’s friend group. And by association, Even’s, so it's got to happen.

“I’ll text them, okay?” Isak is settled by his response, so he nods and curls up under the blankets.

Even, eventually, does, too.

“You know,” he says, his face only millimetres from Isak’s, “I think we only need one bedroom. For real, I don’t think I’d be able to sleep without you in my bed anyways.”

Isak’s 100% sure he says it. It’s not a dream or a fantasy. It’s an actual sentence Even says to him and somehow, it knocks the breath out of Isak’s lungs.

“Me neither,” Isak murmurs breathlessly and relaxes when Even grips the comforter in one of his hands. “I’d probably just toss and turn all night until you crawled into mine.” _Because I could never crawl into yours. Because it would feel too real unless you were the one to do it. Because it would mean too much for_ me _and_ nothing _for you._

Isak’s brain conjures up an image of Even’s sleepy smile, his soft snore, a separate bed, walls betwixt them, and it makes him wrinkle his nose with a smile.

“And we’d inevitably move our stuff to one room and have a room with nothing but a useless guest room for our probable myriad of homeless guests.”

Isak smiles dumbly, shuts his eyes, and all at once falls asleep like a drunken man falling on his arse.

-

The Bakka boys—now collectively called the ‘Balloon Squad’ due to their affection for balloons and Vilde’s obsession with giving their sub-friend groups nicknames—take Even’s apology in stride.

Isak’s in maths with Jonas at his side when his phone buzzes. Screenshots.

He scrolls through them with an impressed look on his face. He's so fucking proud of Even that he shines with it.

* * *

 

To: Elias, Yousef, Mutasim, and Adam at 11:09 

Hi, guys, it’s Even. I guess I should start at the beginning, yeah

I’m bipolar. Im not gonna retype the wikipedia article or anything  
for you, but basically it means I have highs, or periods of time  
where I’m at an extreme high, emotionally and physically wise,  
called manic episodes, and then there are periods where I’m at  
a really bad low and I’m depressed. I can’t control them but the  
meds help. There’s a lot of middle ground mostly, but they still do  
happen sometimes and they often cause me to make decisions I  
wouldn’t usually make. When I posted that shit on fb and said those  
things to you guys, i didn’t mean them. I couldn’t control my thoughts  
and I’d read a bunch of shit I shouldn’t have that I don’t believe  
in anymore and it combined with my manic episode which lead to me  
losing you guys which was something i never wanted to do. I love you  
guys, you know? And i take full responsibility for my actions and  
sincerely apologize for all the shite I started. I hope you can forgive me.

 

From: Elias at 11:15 

The other guys are in a maths exam but there’s no  
need to apologize, man. We understood that a long  
time ago, but you edged us out and we never got the  
chance to ask why. Now we know. We’ve talked a lot  
about this. Make sure to unblock Mikael and forward  
him this text so he can freak out on you.

Listen, someone we know at Bakka’s hosting next Saturday.  
You in? (Ask Isak too. Tell him he owes beer)

* * *

 

Jonas looks over at Isak’s smile and smirks. Snatches Isak’s phone from his hands before he can protest.

“Holy fuck, now we've got a shit tonne of friends,” is all he says, ignoring the row of hearts Even sends after Isak’s praise. “Like really, how many of us are there now?”

Isak purses his lips and shrugs. Quite a bit is all he knows.

“There’s me and you and Mahdi and Magnus and Even and Elias and…” Jonas starts to list them, marking tallies into the margins of his maths book. “Fifteen?”

Isak just shrugs. He’s not much into keeping count.

-

Isak goes to his house two weeks later.  

It’s a Wednesday and he just misses all of his things so much—for instance, his own phone charger because Even’s broken the fifth fucking one—that he’d decided he had to. He unlocks the front door and finds that the place looks tidy.

There’s blank spaces on the walls, of course, where photographs of Isak’s father once hung, but that’s the only noticeable difference. His bedroom door is closed, so he heads toward it and unlocks that, too.

He stands in the centre of his room and looks at all of the things that he no longer embodies. The half-naked women on the walls who’d once judged him for his insufficiencies are just photographs. Their stares are blank and unfocused. Isak tears them down and crumbles them up.

He looks over at his dresser and rips another half-naked photo of a woman in half. Closes his eyes and counts to three.

He grabs a few more pairs of trousers, some shirts, and his favourite pullover before grabbing his charger and locking his bedroom door up behind him.

He pauses outside his mother’s door, fist raised slightly from his side as if to knock.

He doesn’t know if he should. What if she begs him to stay? He’s sure he doesn’t want to do that. What if she begs him to leave? He isn't sure what's worse. But he needs to be sure she’s okay, so he takes a deep breath and knocks.

The door creaks open with the force of his knocks and he peeks inside. The room is a _catastrophe_.

There are picture frames scattered across the room, photographs torn out, glass smashed into bits. Clothes are tossed everywhere with reckless abandon and Isak just can’t imagine his mum destroying her own things like this.

He steps inside, glass crunching under his feet, and reaches for the closest picture. He remembers the day it was taken. A picnic in their backyard, a full family portrait. Even Even’s in it, arm wrapped loosely around Isak’s shoulders. The only thing is that only two of the four faces in the image are visible. Isak and his father have been crossed out like tasks on a fucking to-do list.

Isak drops the photo, mouth agape, and runs from his house faster than he’s ever ran from anything. He doesn’t pause, doesn’t stop to breath, just keeps running until he’s at Even’s house and in Even’s arms and he’s saying things, but nothing makes sense.

He should’ve known that she wouldn’t understand, that she’d hate him. Why is Isak constantly so fucking _stupid?_

Even squeezes him and whispers something soft, over and over and over until Isak can breathe again, can see and talk and think. Who knows how long that takes. Neither of them care much.

“Want to talk about it?” Even asks, but Isak shakes his head.

He’s afraid that if he opens his mouth, he’ll start to cry and never be able to stop. He’d just sob until his inevitable death due to dehydration.

“Okay. Let’s go to bed then, yeah? I just washed the linens with that new detergent I found that smells fuckin’ awesome.”

Isak nods and steps back a few centimetres, allows Even’s arms to fall. Even, knowing Isak better than he knows himself, grabs his hand and leads him into his bedroom. They collapse onto the bed and tug the blankets over themselves, fully dressed.

Even holds Isak tightly for what feels like both forever and only a few seconds. Isak never wants him to let go. They fall asleep quickly, comforted by the presence of one another and the weight of the blanket over their bodies.

-

Isak wakes sometime after three. Even’s barely awake beside him, eyelashes fluttering softly against his cheeks, but he’s smiling at Isak with energy he shouldn’t have.

Isak begins to wonder if this is the beginning of one of his episodes and makes a mental note to check on him tomorrow morning. But for right now, he’ll be fine. Right now, they both are.

Isak swallows roughly, dryly, and looks at his best friend. He knows how he looks at him, like he’d hung the stars one by one just for Isak. He knows Even is either oblivious of it or he ignores it well enough and that’s fine. It is. It has to be.

Isak thinks back to when Even told him that he likes boys, too. Remembers the honesty in his eyes, the determination in his brow, the relief in his smile.

Isak wants that, to know so surely whom he is and what he wants. So he brushes hair out of his eyes, bites the inside of his cheek, and lets the words pour out of his mouth like water from a pitcher. Doesn’t stop to think about the consequences, if any, that will follow.

“Even, I...I’m gay.”

He’s never said the word aloud before, never allowed himself to utter it once. It’s freeing, but only sort of. He panics when Even doesn’t say anything, just looks at him with pensive eyes, unmoving.

“I…”

“Isak,” Even says softly, his voice the barest, fiercest whisper, “I’m so _proud_ of you. I’m so happy that you trust me enough to tell me.”

Isak nods and looks away. Swallows the ball in his throat. Looks back.

“Thank you,” Isak says, looking out from under his lashes, “for being here for me. You and your mum...you’re the only constant I’ve ever had in my life and I don’t know what I’d do without you.”

Even smiles and squeezes Isak a little tighter. Isak feels better now. Lighter. He relaxes in Even’s arms. Then they both fall back asleep.

-

“Harry!” Isak shouts, clutching the feathered hat of the strange man running away from him. “Your hat!”

The light-haired man turns, winks over his shoulder. Even’s camera focuses solely on him when he says, “Keep it. To remember me by,” and runs off.

Even waits until Harry, whose real name is Finn, has rounded the corner to yell “cut!” and Isak sighs in relief. He's fucking exhausted. Who knew Even took directing so seriously?

“That’s a wrap for today, Finn. I’ve got to do an individual scene with Isak and then we’ll clean up, but you’re free to go. I’ll see you at three on Friday?”

Finn, a tall and lanky blonde, smiles and nods.

“See you,” he says, grabbing his bag.

He winks at Isak from across the room and Isak blushes a little. He’s a beautiful guy, is all. Kind and sweet and Isak’s pretty costar in Even’s movie.

Even’s brow furrows a bit. Isak ignores it.

“So, I was thinking we’d do the first half of the pool scene? I talked this kid I knew in elementary school into letting us use her pool for only a small fee. A couple crowns, really.”

Isak nods. He’s good with whatever Even’s got planned.

So they take the journey across town until they’re outside a tall white house with the shutters left wide open. Even immediately slides through them and into the basement, looking up at Isak with a challenge in his eyes.

“Scared?” He asks when Isak hesitates.

“Fuck no,” Isak grumbles and then he follows Even through.

The pool is super nice. Steam rises off it a bit, so Isak knows it’s heated, but it doesn’t matter because he definitely won’t be going in. He hates swimming, especially when the weather's so cold.

“Don’t trip and fall in,” Even laughs. “We both know what a _terrible_ swimmer you are. You’d probably flail around in the water until I had to jump in and save your arse.”

Isak gapes at him. _How dare he._

“Fuck off. I’m a _wonderful_ swimmer! Absolutely _fantastic_. I could probably beat Michael Phelps even while he’s on the ‘roids.”

Even rolls his eyes. Isak thinks he’s adorable.

“Phelps didn’t do _steroids_. He smoked pot and drank a lot.”

“Sounds a bit like you, actually,” Isak taunts, grinning so widely it aches a bit.

Even gapes at him, mouth open, and scoffs. Isak preens a bit until he sees Even lifting his arms and pushing him into the warm water.

Isak splashes into the water, clothes soaked and floating loosely around his body, and is happy to realize he’d tugged Even in after him.

“I can’t believe you _did_ that!” Even says indignantly.

“ _You_ pushed _me_!” Isak says back and splashes him so water splatters across his face.

And it starts a war, basically. Even chases Isak around the pool who, admittedly, is a terrible swimmer, and catches him quickly every time. Isak can’t think of any place he’d rather be.

He’s so grateful to have Even in his life that he’s not even mad about being shoved into a pool fully clothed in the middle of November. Not at all, actually.

Isak tries pathetically to escape Even once more by diving underwater at the last second, but Even’s faster and catches him by the wrists, tugging him to the surface with firm hands and a hard laugh.

Isak gasps for breath when he breaks the water’s surface and looks at Even who’s already looking at him. All Isak can think about is how fucking ethereal he looks here, with his hair plastered to his head, with rivulets of water sliding across his skin, with his pupils so dilated his irises are almost completely hidden. He realizes how close they are, only millimeters apart, and how hot the air’s gotten like someone’d turned the heat up to high. Isak’s wrists are still in Even’s hands and his skin is burning with something electric in the places Even’s skin touches his. His heart is pounding in his ears and he's yearning for something, anything, more.

He’s never felt anything quite like this.

He looks up at Even and the space between them shrinks and shrinks until they’re so close Isak can see how Even’s eyelashes are stuck together and then they’re kissing, skin burning, hands roaming, eyes squeezed shut so tightly Isak sees stars.

Even grips Isak’s wrists tightly, kisses him with an intensity so searing that it sets Isak’s insides on fire and wakes him up like no kiss has ever done before. Isak can’t help himself, can’t do anything but feel the burn of Even’s skin under his and savour it.

He knows the kiss won’t last forever.

Even releases his wrists to grab Isak’s face and tilt it, gives himself access to Isak’s neck to leave a bruise on the space underneath his jaw.

The pain is wonderful and beautiful and so _Even_ that it startles Isak from his stupor. He lets go and stumbles back away from Even, away from the glorious burn of his lips, hot against his neck, his skin, his _lips_. He backs away and stares wide-eyed at Even who stares back.

“Isak—” he starts to say, but Isak’s shaking his head and then he’s panicking.

His chest feels like it’s concaving. He turns and rushes out of the pool, stumbling and tripping until he’s up and out of the window, leaving Even alone.

Isak doesn’t look back. He just runs and runs, the bitter November air nipping at his wet skin the entire time.

He can’t believe he was so fucking _stupid._ He can’t believe he’d just fucked up the only friendship he's ever had that ever actually meant _something._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I fucked with the pool scene, I know!!!!! Gah. Also I have this thing with Emma where I don't like her one bit.


	3. end

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> There's a beginning to everything, like you or me or your best friend's mum's dad's uncle, but there's also an ending. Isak and Even are no different.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A finale for the ages, I hope. Thanks so much for your support!

Isak wanders the streets and wonders where he'll go. He probably isn't wanted in the place he'd called home. So he thinks about his friends and how he doesn't want to see

anyone but Even.

He's still soaking wet when he knocks on Eskild’s door.

He doesn't remember deciding to go there, which is funny. Thankfully it's not Noora or Linn that opens the door.

“Isak?” Eskild says softly, confused. “Why are you wet?”

Isak opens his mouth to answer, but nothing comes out. Tears pool in his eyes. He shakes his head and Eskild just seems to understand, like he always does.

“Take a shower, yeah? I'm sure Noora won't mind if you sleep on the couch tonight. Maybe you'll tell me what's wrong?”

Isak swallows around the lump in his throat and nods. Maybe he'll feel better if he talks about his problems instead of letting them fester for once.

“Let me get you some warm clothes, okay?” Eskild smiles the sad, worried smile once more before he disappears into his room for a few moments.

When he returns, it's with clothes and a towel.

Isak robotically takes them towards the bathroom and showers. He doesn't feel anything but cold, not even when he turns the cold water off completely and the hot water blasts over his skin. He uses the vanilla soap that someone left on the edge of the tub because it reminds him of Even.

Even smells sort of like vanilla, but mostly like smoke. Isak imagines he smells like something similar, just minus the vanilla and plus whatever the fuck Old Spice is supposed to smell like.

He dries himself off and stares at himself in the foggy mirror. He can only manage to look for a few seconds before he turns away, feeling like he's lost everything. And he has. Even was _everything._

He puts on the clothes Eskild gave him and frowns at the image of Jesus on the shirt. Is Eskild religious? Is _Isak?_

He takes a deep breath and leaves the bathroom. Eskild’s waiting on the couch for him with a bowl of popcorn and a bottle of beer. Isak isn't hungry or thirsty. He's just…empty inside. He feels nothing. Wants and needs for nothing but his best friend. 

“Want to talk about it?”

Isak doesn't say anything as he sits beside him, looks at his hands to avoid Eskild’s prodding eyes. He's afraid if he opens his mouth to talk, everything will pour out.

Eskild sighs.

“Maybe tomorrow then? You know, I'm here for you, Isak.”

Isak nods silently and Eskild stands, starts to walk away.

Isak suddenly remembers he left his phone on its charger in Even’s living room. Fuck.

“Can I…Do you have a phone I can borrow?”

Eskild startled, obviously not expecting him to speak, and nods. He disappears into his room and comes back out with his cell phone.

Isak writes out two very different text messages to two very similar people.

* * *

 

To: Unknown Number at 22:35

It's Isak. I won't be home tonight but check on Even. Might be another episode.

* * *

 

To: Unknown Number at 22:37

I know you're worrying, but don't. I'm fine. I'm also really sorry for what I did.  
If you don't want to be friends anymore, I understand. It's okay. I'll be okay.   
I'm sorry I did that to you and put you in this situation. 

Also if you're having an episode, don't be afraid to call your mum, yeah?   
Actually, please call her if you are. Sorry again. Isak. 

* * *

 

When he's done, Eskild brings him a blanket and pillow. He hangs back a few seconds, watching Isak get settled.

“Tomorrow we’ll talk, okay? Then you'll tell me what's up and I'll give you advice. That's how this is gonna work. You don't get to keep it bottled up inside of you. It'll eat you alive if you do.”

Isak nods, somber, “If…if he calls, don't tell him I'm here, okay?”

Eskild smiles a bit and nods. Looks less on edge. He must know it's got to do with Even because, in Isak’s life, what doesn't?

“Good night, Isak.”

“Good night, Eskild.”

-

When Eskild wakes Isak the next morning, the sun is high in the sky and Isak momentarily forgets his own anguish and feels okay before it rushes back to him like a train impacting his chest.

He presses his fingers against the bruised spot on his neck and remembers. He flushes with heat and pain and anxiety and wants to go to sleep and not wake up for a while.

Unfortunately, Eskild is relentless in his pursuit of Isak’s source of panic and he badgers him over a breakfast of microwaved pizza and sugary coffee.

“Talk.”

“My best friend. You probably know him, right? He was making this...this film and I played the lead so we were shooting a scene in the pool…and I was teasing him…so he pushed me into the water and I pulled him in with me. Basically, I ended up…doing something I shouldn't've. He's too nice to say it, you know, but I'm sure he's not…he doesn't want to be friends anymore.”

“What did you do?” Eskild murmurs over the rim of his coffee. “I can't imagine there's a thing in the world he wouldn't forgive you for doing.”

“This…might be the only thing. I…kissed him. It was in the moment and I wasn't thinking and what if someone saw? But all I could see was him and how beautiful he looked and I couldn't help myself.”

Eskild frowns at him. Isak’s heartbeat is loud in his ears.

“Did he push you off? Freeze up? Tell at you he's not into you?”

“What? No. He kissed me back.”

“Isak—”

“He's just too nice to get mad. He would've apologized like it was his fault that he can't…can’t love me like I love him.”

“Why is it an impossibility that he likes you like you like him? Why is that so unfathomable?”

Isak doesn't know how to answer that. It's just unrealistic, is what he wants to say. How could an ethereal being like Even love him in any way but platonically? Isak is, after all, just Isak. Isn't worth the attention or the energy or the love.

“I don't know.”

“I think,” Eskild smiles, “and I’m sure it'll come as no surprise to your other friends, that Even’s in love with you, too. It'd be impossible not to fall in love with you, especially for him because you let him in, which you don’t do with literally anyone else.

“You keep all of your friends at arm distance, like you're afraid they'll realize that you might not be who they think you are, but I think—and this is my honest opinion as your official, um, guru, yes—that that's bullshit. You're so much more than you give yourself credit for. Sure you may like to underage drink and party, but you do well in school and care about your friends so much you forget about yourself. It's charming, Isak. You're charming. And I get why Even’s in love with you. I'm sure everyone around you does, too.”

Isak flounders. He doesn't know what to say, can't figure out how to look Eskild on the eye. How could it possibly be true? Isak’s no one special. Even—he _is._ He deserves someone who can make him feel just as special as he is.

“He's been calling my phone all night. Leaving me voicemails and texts since 21. My phone's never been this active. Just…would you answer him?”

Isak looks at his hands and drinks some of the too-sweet coffee. His hands shake around the mug.

He wants to. He aches with the urge to call Even, to hear his voice, to apologize. But he's sure he won't be able to handle Even saying they can't be friends anymore. It would break his heart.

Eskild’s phone rings on the table again and Isak looks at it.

“It’s him. Make your choice.”

Eskild stands, holding his mug and his plate of pizza, and stalks off, leaving Isak with a big choice and a terrible cup of coffee.

He sits for a second longer before scrambling over the table to hit answer.

“Hello? Eskild, please, just let me talk to him! I have to tell him!”

“Halla?” Isak murmurs. “Tell who what?”

“Isak…”

“Even.”

Isak didn't think he'd cry, but he starts to. He feels absolutely pathetic as he does.

“I'm so sorry,” is all he can say, repeating it over and over because he _is._

He did this. There's something fucking wrong with him. He should be able to resist the temptation. The desire. But he just can't. And maybe there's nothing wrong with that. With admitting he can't hold himself back. Maybe this was how their friendship was supposed to die.

“Isak, stop, please. Can I come over?”

“No.” Isak doesn't want that. He doesn't want Even to see how weak he is.

“Then will you come to me? Please I have to see you.”

“I…I’ll meet you in 20, okay?” Isak would do anything Even asked him to. “At your house. Is your mum home?”

“No. Just me. Door’s unlocked. I'll see you soon, yeah?”

“Yeah.” Isak begins to wonder if he'll regret ever answering.

-

Isak paces outside Even’s home for a few minutes, hesitant to knock. He feels so terribly for kissing Even, not because he liked it—because he absolutely did—, but because Even most likely didn't, no matter _what_ Eskild says.

He wishes he could just call and cancel, tell Even he can't do this. But his phone is inside Even's house and Eskild would kill him if he came back just minutes after leaving.

He takes a deep breath and enters the house after another minute of exhaustive pacing. Even is in the midst of his own pacing.

“Even,” Isak says breathlessly and he's so fucking afraid he's quivering. “I—”

“I fucking love you,” Even says and it's cinematic and emotional and a fucking lie. “I'm in love with you. I have been since forever.”

Isak just looks at him. Isak can't believe him. Won't. He has to be fucking lying. Isak wilts.

“No,” Isak shakes his head, voice exhausted and pained. “You can't. You're not the type of boy who falls in love with the _gay_ kid who has a mother who scratches him out of the family portraits. I’m not the type of person you _deserve_. You're the type of boy who falls in love with someone who can love him back and has nothing holding him down. I—I don't _deserve_ you, Even. I never did.”

“Isak, listen to me! Maybe your mum has problems and maybe you aren’t perfect and your bed occasionally smells like stale crisps, but you're _beautiful._ You're…you're amazing. Charming and awkward and funny and clever and so _fucking_ smart. Did you really think I could ever _not_ love you? With all the time we've spent together? Anyone who spends a few moments with you falls in love. Ask all of our friends. Ask them who their favourite is. They'll all answer you.”

Isak flounders again. He never knows what to say when people are trying to compliment him.

Instead of saying anything about what Even said, he chooses to say, “My bed doesn't smell like crisps.”

“It doesn't because I wash the sheets,” Even murmurs offhandedly, staring at him. “Is that all you're gonna say?”

“What do you want me to say?” Isak says harshly, painfully, feeling as if Even wanted to pick a fight. “That I've loved you since 8th year? That the only reason I knew I was _gay_ was because of you? Because even the _thought_ of you made me feel things I’ve never felt with any girl? Jesus, fuck, Even! I don't know what you want from me!”

“Since 8th year?” Even frowns at him. _“That long?”_

Isak can't do anything but nod. Five years is a long time to love somebody in silence. Isak could've done it for 200 if it meant keeping Even as his best mate.

“I…I knew I loved you the minute I met Sonja. She always sort of paled in comparison to you. She's the one who told me to go for it. Go for you. But I was afraid and you were “straight” and I know I was fucked and I liked Sonja, so I stayed with her. She noticed, of course, as all of our friends have. Was almost happy about the breakup because she'd get to see _you_ happy.”

“Sonja hates me, you liar.”

“No. She was jealous of you and she had a right to be.”

“So all that shit you said about Sonja at the pizza place—”

“I was lying. Sure, mum liked Sonja, she just wasn't as fond of her as she was of you. I wasn’t ready to tell you the truth. You weren't ready to hear it, either.”

“And I am now?” Isak is sure he's 100% not.

“Yes.”

“So what now?” Isak says with a furrowed brow. “We walk into the sunset together and everything's perfect? Sing Kumbaya and live happily ever after?”

“No, that's not how it works. Some things take effort, you know? You just have to be willing to put it in.

“My mental illness won't make things easy. But you know what I'm like when I'm manic. You know what to do when I'm depressed. We don't need to have that talk. I don't need to be afraid you'll reject me because of it, because you've already _accepted_ me. And you know that I'll love you no matter what kind of crisps your bed smells like or what terrible movies you enjoy. Sometimes, you're absolutely incorrigible, but I know that. I accept that. I _love_ that.”

“Okay.”

“Okay what?” Even asks, looming a few inches from Isak.

Too far. Isak’s heart is hammering in his chest. His fingers tremble when he lifts his hand to grab Even’s wrist.

He wants this so badly it aches. Does he deserve it? Maybe not. But the opportunity is too good to miss.

“What if we break up and we aren't friends anymore?”

“We'll never stop being friends. No matter what. I solemnly swear.”

Isak is a little shocked at the gesture. Solemnly swears are saved for the important promises, like a double-dog dare but for things they really mean. They haven't used one since they started talking again after Isak got drunk and stayed in Eskild’s basement.

Isak nods. He nods until he's sure everything's settled into his brain, that he can make a rational decision. He can't let his hormones take control of his choices. He has to be clear-headed and sure when he does what he wants to.

“Okay. I'm sorry for freaking out.”

“It's okay. I might've done the same thing in your place.”

“Nah,” Isak murmurs and he lets Even pull him in close, “you wouldn't've.”

Isak settles in the circle of Even's arms, lets the sound of his heart calm his own. He stares blank-eyed at the patch on Even's pullover.

What has he done?

-

It's not until later that night, so late it's early, that Isak actually comes to terms with what happened. He stares at Even, at the softness on his face, and realizes that Even likes him. Even would like to continue escalating their relationship.

Even _wants_ him.

He's so shaken by the thought that he grins, his heart still pounding in his chest. There's an anxious twinge in his muscles, though. Like something's been left unsaid or undone or forgotten.

He does his best to ignore it and leans in, laying with his face near Even's spine. He closes his eyes and breathes. Then he falls asleep.

-

Isak wakes to Even shaking his shoulders. When he opens his eyes, Even's grinning down at him. Isak immediately turns over and tries to fall back asleep.

Even, apparently, won't have that, so he sits on Isak’s legs until it's painful.

“Get off!” Isak groans into his pillow. “I am too tired for this.”

“No! Not until you wake up.”

“I am awake, but I'd rather not be, so kindly fuck off until later.”

“Isak! It's important. Please get up.”

Isak ponders for a moment and then the pain in his legs becomes unbearable, so he gives in.

“Fine! I'm awake! You've ruined sleep for me! I shall never sleep again! Not get off’a me; you're crushin’ my legs.”

“Fine,” Even slides off and Isak sits up, groggy and angry.

Even’s smile melts Isak’s frown almost immediately, though he tends to have that effect on everyone.

“What's so urgent you're waking me at the arse crack o’dawn?”

“I'm hungry,” is what Even says. “Let’s go get Chinese.”

“Even, it's six in the mornin’. There's not a single Chinese place in Norway that's open.”

“Then let's go to somewhere one is. I really want some egg rolls. Or maybe Thai. Or maybe Spanish. Wait—let's have all three! We could call it…Thainisese.”

Isak looks at him and can't stop staring. He should've known.

“Let me call your mum, yeah? I'm sure—”

“No, Issy!” Isak startles at the nickname.

Sana’s the only one who calls him that and usually she's joking.

“Let’s trademark Taiwanese—no wait—Thai- _nisese_ food together. We'll be billionaires! We’ll just have to jump on a plane and go do some research.”

“Sure, Even. Sounds great. I'll check flight times, yeah?” Isak lifts his phone from the bedside table and starts to write out a text.

* * *

 

To: Even's mum at 06:12

Even's having an episode. I'm with him. 

From: Even's mum at 06:12

 What's he doing? Is he running off?

To: Even's mum at 06:13

He's looking at flight times

Says he's planning a 3-country trip round the world so he can invent a   
new type of foreign cuisine

but no running off just yet

From: Even's mum at 06:14

I'll be home asap.

I'm leaving work now.

Thanks for letting me know <3. 

* * *

 

He glances over at Even, who's pulling on mismatched clothes and rambling and really isn't sure what to do other than stall until Even’s mum gets in. He's dealt with Even’s episodes, of course, but never by himself. Never on his own.

“Where are we going to get 3100 crowns, Even?” Isak murmurs. “And then 1100 more for the flight to China? I can't imagine the flight to Spain’ll be much cheaper.”

“We'll sneak on, Issy. It'll be an adventure for the ages! I'll make a movie about it one day, lamenting all about how much I love you and how we both invented Thai-nisese food.”

Isak smiles at him. Tries his best to make it convincing. His heart's not in it, though, because he's really worried.

“Did you take your meds, today? I think we should do that before we pack our bags.”

“Okay,” Even relents and digs through his bedside drawer, popping his pills into his mouth in an action so familiar he could probably do it in his sleep.

Isak relaxes a bit, knows the drugs will help, and aides Even in folding their clothes carefully and slowly. He doesn't want to upset him.

Isak hears the front door open, listens to the resounding noise of the lock, and then Even’s mum is standing in the doorway looking down at them, paint smeared on her nose.

She's an art teacher and had probably been painting in the studio. She smiles at her son and says hello. Even smiles and says it back.

“How are you feeling, love?” She murmurs.

“Excited! Issy and I are going to Thailand!”

“Oh, yeah?” She says softly. “Which city?”

“Bangkok, I think,” Isak adds.

He's glad she's here. His anxiety calms a little.

“Isak, could you do me a favour and run to the store for some tea? I drank the last mug this morning and I think Even could use some. Take some money from my purse, yeah?”

Isak nods, smiles a bit, and at the last second, leans over to kiss Even on the top of his head.

“I'll see you later, yeah?” They need space. Isak gets it.

He’ll go chill somewhere where he can have his own meltdown. It’s fine.

“You’ll be back in time for our flight?” Even says and he looks so innocent, so naive, that it makes Isak’s eyes water. He nods, broken hearted.

He gets some clothes and dresses in the hallway, wiping underneath his eyes so he isn’t actively crying.

He can’t think straight, but he’s coherent enough to grab some money from his wallet—he’d been the last person to have a cup of tea, actually—and leaves, calling Jonas.

Jonas answers after a couple of rings. It is only just after six and Isak couldn’t be more grateful.

“Hey, man.”

“Can you meet me? I…We’ve got to talk.”

-

Isak manages to keep his meltdown under wraps until he’s sitting next to Jonas on a bench at the park. No one’s there and the sun’s only just begun its daily ascent.

Isak remembers that the sun isn’t actually moving and that it’s the earth that’s making its journey through space. The thought comforts him, but he isn’t sure why.

“What’s the tea for?” Jonas asks.

“Even,” Isak mumbles. “I drank the last cup, so.”

“Didn’t know you cared for it much.”

“I don’t, but no one had done the shopping and it was either that or nearly spoilt milk.”

Isak presses his thumb into the rip in his jeans. He wonders when that happened.

“You coming to Ingrid’s thing on Friday? We’re gonna pre-drink at Magnus’.”

Isak nods a little, “The Bakka boys?”

“Will be there. Maybe it’ll give Even time to complete his circle of apologies in person. Though there’s no need. They’re cool guys. They get it.”

Isak hums his approval. They are. They’re the kind of guys Even deserves a friends. Good and wholesome and without fucking homosexual ulterior motives.

“Speaking of Even, where is he? Isn't his bed a bit cold without you in it?” Jonas grins.

“He's, uh, he's having a…manic…episode. I figured it was best to give him and his mum some space.”

Jonas hums and Isak turns to stare at the sun. It's halfway through its journey above the horizon, the sky around it orange and pink and just slightly grey toward the edges. It’s beautiful.

“I told Even I loved him,” Isak murmurs, but he doesn’t turn to look at Jonas, just continues to stare at the sunrise. “He said…he loved me, too. Now I realize he was just…just manic. He…He didn’t know what he was saying when he said it. He couldn’t’ve.”

Isak sees Jonas turn to him, a sad look in his eyes, but he continues looking straight. Continues staring until the golden rays from the sun.

“Did you know there’s upwards of 100 billion stars in the milky way?” Isak says just as Jonas begins to speak, interrupting him completely. “Approximately, I mean. This guy Korneich, he teaches uni in the States somewhere…New York, I think. He said that currently there’s no possible way to determine how many stars there are in the universe and he’s right. We’ve made some astronomical progress, of course, but not enough. Not _nearly_ enough.

“So we estimate based on a lot of different factors. According to the scientists, there’s something like one septillion stars in the entire fucking universe, man. That’s a whole shit tonne of stars, you know? Almost infinite, in comparison to anything we’ll ever experience. Like we live for less than 3 billion seconds, did you know that? That's it. It’s _nothing_ in comparison. So a septillion is basically infinite. Somewhere out there, amongst those millions and billions and sextillions of stars, maybe there’s another Earth. Or maybe there’s a few. And maybe on those Earths, Even and I…we get to _do it._ We get to become something _more_. But here? On this Earth, in this solar system with _this_ _star_ , we don’t. And that’s okay, I think. As long as somewhere out there, there’s an Isak and an Even who get to do it right. They get to be happy. That’s all that matters, I think.”

“I think,” Jonas says and he, too, turns to stare off at the sun, “that if you give Even his chance to explain, you’ll come to realize exactly how _real_ his feelings are for you. It’s undeniable and I think you could’ve asked anyone of our friends—Even Magnus has noticed and he’s really terribly thick—and they’d’ve told you the same thing. Even is _anything_ but subtle.”

Isak swallows roughly. Now that two people have said it, it starts to sink in. Even’s mania does twist his mind a bit, but usually in the early stages, he’s coherent enough. He probably did know what he was saying. Maybe he really _does_ like Isak. Or maybe Isak’s just a bit naive, too.

“Are you sure?”

“Completely,” Jonas grins. “You sleep in his bed, mate, how aren’t _you_ sure?”

Isak smiles a bit, nods. The sun’s completely over the horizon now and it blinds Isak for a couple of seconds until he turns away. Like all good things, its rising beauty has come to an end. But later, it’ll do it all over again. There always seems to be a beginning to the end.

“Thanks, man. I…Just thanks.”

“That’s what best friends are for, aren’t they?” He knocks his shoulder against Isak’s. “Now, about the party—”

-

Isak stays with Jonas all day. He even sleeps at his house, just to give Even and his mum their space. He does check in, though, so no one gets too worried—Even’s mum is known for her overreactions—and he sleeps fitfully, on edge the entire night.

When he wakes, there's a message from Even, but it's about Thainisese food, so he types out a half hearted response and goes back to sleep.

Jonas wakes him at noon, tells him the boys’ll be over at 2. He gives him some clothes to change into and tells him to shower, so he does.

When he puts on the clothes, he feels a bit like an imposter. Jonas likes vintage-y, well worn clothes and Isak typically does not. He towel dries his hair and sits beside Jonas on the couch until the doorbell rings. Mahdi and Magnus come in, laughing about something Isak can't wrap his head around.

“Isak!” Magnus says loudly, grinning. “Didn't know you'd be here! Where's Even?”

Apparently Even has become such a staple in Isaks life people expect him to be somewhere in the near vicinity of Isak. Funny.

“Not here,” Isak murmurs. “Let’s just play, okay?”

And so they do.

-

Isak gets another string of texts from his mother, but he skims through them. They sound vaguely coherent, asking him to come home and talk. He doesn't reply, doesn't even start to, and leaves Jonas’ around 20:00.

He walks toward Even's house and feels trepidatious. He unlocks the door with the key he'd gotten from Even a couple years ago and enters. The air is still, but Isak hears someone whispering in the kitchen, so he heads toward them.

“—not too bad this time. He's in bed. He's been crying about Isak for hours, though, and I don't want him to have to see Even like that…Yeah, mum. I think they're, you know _._ _You_ know! You aren't stupid. You just want me to say it but I won’t. You've seen them together. It's like no one outside the two of them exists…yes, mum. I'll tell him to give you a call, okay?…I love you, too. Good night.”

Isak hadn't planned on eavesdropping, but it works in his favour. Even Even’s mum and grandmother have picked up on them.

Eskild and Jonas were right.

Isak steps into the kitchen and smiles at her. She smiles back, the weariness in her eyes as prominent as ever.

“Did you…?”

“What?” Isak murmurs.

“Nothing,” she smiles. “Is that tea?”

Isak hands her the box. He'd remembered to grab it from Jonas’ house before he left.

“Yeah. How's he doing?”

“Better. Probably be good if you went to see him, yeah? He's been…he's asked for you. Take him this, would you?” She holds out a bottle of water.

Isak nods and takes it. Nods and walks away. Nods and stands outside the door.

He doesn't knock because he’s never had to and enters. The lights are off and Even’s in the middle of the bed, curled up into a ball with the blanket pulled just over his elbows.

Isak imagines he's freezing.

He steps inside and places the water on the edge of the bedside table, settling down onto the mattress beside him.

“Even?”

He doesn't respond and Isak doesn't expect him to. He lifts the blanket and tucks himself underneath so he can wrap Even up in the circle of his arms and squeeze.

He just loves him so much it burns him inside like a forest fire.

He just hopes it's enough to keep Even warm.

-

Isak wakes to Even’s restless tossing and turning. He knocks him in the ribs with his elbow and Isak yelps, waking both of them.

“Isak?”

“Hey, love,” Isak murmurs and he lifts his eyes to look up at Even delicately. “How are you?”

Even just shrugs, has an emotion in his eyes Isak can't name but can certainly understand.

“Do you…remember what we talked about before it started?”

Even ignores him. Won't meet his eyes. Isak’s heart feels like it's being shredded by a tiger’s claws.

“Even?”

No response. Isak isn't sure what he expected.

“I…” He begins to lose his nerve. “I guess I'll just leave you be, then. I'll let your mum know where I am, okay? In case you want to talk. I'll see you later, yeah?”

Isak unwraps himself from Even and starts to climb out of the bed. The only signs that Even is alive are the movement of his eyes and the sounds of his breathing.

Isak tries to smile, but he's sure he fails, and leaves. Even’s mum is sitting in the living room, so Isak says Goodnight. Tells her to call if she needs anything. He'll be at home.

-

When Isak opens the door to his house, his mother shrieks a little. He feels raw and broken and he can't deal with her delusions. Not tonight. He just wishes she could have one good day so he can have some fucking peace.

“Isak!” She says loudly.

“Mum, I’m really tired and I just need to go to bed, okay? I'll talk to you tomorrow.”

“No, Isak, wait!”

“Mum, please. I can't. Not tonight.”

“Isak Valterson! Stop this instant or I'll—”

Isak turns to her, face hot, pulse racing, “You'll what? Condemn me to hell? Don't worry—I'm already there!”

She gasps, looks afronted, “Isak.”

“No, and you know what? I'm fucking gay. A raging homosexual homo-fucking-sapien. Gonna condemn me now?”

Her eyes are as wide as dinner plates. Isak shakes his head and walks into his room. He slams the door behind himself and locks it.

He sits on his bed and wonders why the fuck he just did that.

-

Isak goes to school the next day, but Even doesn't show. He didn't expect him to, really.

He's almost at 10, so he knows he can't skip anymore, but he wants to so badly. He just wants to run or hide.

His friends, unfortunately, can't tell he's dying inside. They gather around him at lunch and talk about Even missing and then girls and eating pussy and Isak keeps his eyes down and his head even lower.

“Do you?” Magnus asks him, but he doesn't hear him at first. “Isak?”

Isak lifts his head and looks at him. He opens his mouth and looks to Jonas. He gives him an exasperated look.

Magnus and Mahdi give him an odd look.

“I—Okay, so…you know how I said I hooked up with Emma at that party at the end of the summer?” He waits for their nods. “It…didn't happen. I'm…I love Even, you know? I'm gay.”

Magnus turns his head to the side a bit and Isak waits for the dumb as fuck question.

“Wait—does that mean you never fucked Sara?”

Mahdi interrupts him, “Even’s bi or pan or something, isn't he?”

Isak nods. Shrinks down in his seat.

“You should tell him.”

“I did. But he was manic. Now he's in a depressive episode and doesn't want to talk to me.”

“You know,” Magnus murmurs and everyone gets ready to groan, “my mum's bipolar, so I get it. I just think maybe you're giving up too easily?”

“What?” Isak is stunned.

Magnus hasn't said something completely lame. Isak’s fucking shocked.

“When my mum’s depressed, she doesn't want to leave her bed. Which is fine. Everyone has days like that. She just has them more often and more severe. But she most of all feels alone, so my sisters stay with her and just talk around her and to her, even if she doesn't respond. Knowing you aren't alone means a whole lot. I guess.”

Everyone at the table stares at him. What's happening? Magnus being wise? It's unheard of!

“What the fuck?” He furrows his eyebrows. “Why are you staring? Sometimes I give good advice!”

Never in the history of their friendship has he given “good” advice.

“Wow, Mags,” Jonas says and he's wearing an impressed smile. “Who knew you were so cool?”

-

Isak has to wait the day out to go see Even and he's anxious the entire time.

Usually, when Even's in a depressive episode, Isak’s been kept away. Mostly by his own mum who insisted the devil had something to do with it, but sometimes by Even’s parents to hide the severity of his illness from Isak.

This time, he won't be forced out. Unless, of course, Even asks him to leave.

He skips going to his locker at the end of the day and goes straight home, notebooks still in hand. He practically runs the entire way, haphazardly shoving his books into his backpack.

When he opens the door, Even's mum startles, drops the book she'd been reading to the floor with a curse.

“Isak? Is something wrong? Why were you running?”

“Nothing's wrong,” He smiles and hopes it’s convincing. “Just gotta see Even.”

“He might be awake. If he is, could you try to get him to eat? I left a sandwich by his bed but he said he wasn't hungry.”

“I’ll try.”

Isak drops his bag to the floor and opens Even’s door quietly, surveyingly. The first thing he notices is how fucking cold it is. He's bound to have the window open. Isak struts across the darkened room and closes it. Even rolls over as if startled and stares. Isak stares back.

“Hey,” He says.

His voice is fragile like a piece of very thin ice. He wonders if Even even notices.

“Hi.”

“Do you remember that party at the end of summer? The one where you and Sonja broke up?”

Even settles back in bed, but doesn't nod or shake his head. Isak doesn't know why he's saying this, but at least he's talking.

“Emma—do you know her? She's a first year,” Isak waits, but Even gives no sign of movement. “Well she tried to suck me off in the bathroom, right? But I couldn't go through with it. Partially because I…I’m gay, but mostly because I had unknowingly committed myself to you.

“Remember that time in like 8th year where we were in your room and I ran away in the middle of kicking your arse at FIFA? That was the moment I realized that the love of a girl could never compare to how much I loved you. Of course it scared the absolute shit out of me. You know how my mum is. You know the things she says and thinks about…people like _us._ So the only thing I could do was run. I needed distance. I hated myself. I blamed my mum, but it's not really her fault, is it? Her illness has religious undertones, yes, but that doesn't make it any less of an illness.

“Maybe I should talk to her.”

Isak never really thought about it, but his mum didn't choose to have schizoaffective disorder. Just like Even didn't choose to have bipolar disorder.

“Anyway, did I ever tell you how I met Eskild? Like face to face? My dad had just left my mum and she was just fucking screaming at the top of her lungs in her room and I didn't know how to help her, you know? So I went out and got drunk at some bar where some guy bought me drinks until I couldn’t see straight. Eskild came in and ditched his date for me. I didn’t…I refused to go home, so he let me sleep in his basement.”

Isak hadn’t realized that Eskild, too, had become one of his friends. He’s always there when Isak needs him, even if he’s bending the rules to help him. Isak decides to thank him.

“The other day…when I came back and I was panicking and talking nonsense and you had to calm me down? Well, I went home. I…wanted my charger because you’d broken your fifth fuckin one, remember? And all the family portraits were taken down from the walls…and when I went into her room to check on her, I found them. She’d…She’d taken the glass out and smashed them to smithereens on the floor. In every picture, she’d taken shards of glass and scratched my dad…and me…out of the pictures like we’d meant nothing to her. Like I was _nothing_ to her. She’d discarded them all over the floor like I didn’t even fucking matter, like I wasn’t her son and she didn’t even know me. Like I was just a stranger, a boy who’d she’d put up with for seventeen years. Like she was Uncle Vernon and I was fucking Harry Potter,” Isak shakes his head. “It’s not her fault. I know that. It’s just…so hard to forgive her sometimes. If she’d just take her meds, maybe then it would be easier. Maybe then she wouldn’t fucking hate me for being…me.”

“She could never hate you.”

Isak hides his surprise. He’s so fucking happy Even’s speaking that he threatens to burst at the edges with it.

“I’m not so sure of that. Not lately. Not now that I realized I’m…gay…and that I’ll have to tell her. I’m not sure she’ll be willing to have a gay son.”

“She’s always had a gay son, Isak,” Even murmurs

“True,” Isak says. “Anyways, your mum wants you to eat this sandwich, so…here.”

He crosses the room to hand it to him, lingering near the edge of the bed, unsure. Even starts to shake his head, but Isak gives him a look.

“Half?”

“Half,” Isak decides it’s good enough. “Fine. But you’ve got to eat the crusts, too.”

Even groans a little. Ever since he was little, he’s torn the crust off his sandwiches because he hates them. Usually, he gives them to Isak because he likes them, but Isak won’t take them this time.

Even takes it and eats. Isak simpers.

“Sit. Eat the other half, would you? You’re making me anxious just standing there.”

Isak sits, folds one of his legs underneath himself, and eats the other half. It’s just ham and cheese, very simple. Isak is grateful and so is Even, probably.

Even begins to talk after a while, voice soft, “When we were filming the leaving scene…you know the one where Harry leaves his hat with you? I didn’t actually need to film the pool scene alone with you. I just…I planned on telling you how I feel in this grand moment of cinematic perfection, but it got away from me. I strayed from my script and I…pushed you too far. I should’ve never came on that strong. I should’ve known you weren’t…you wouldn’t react well to that. I just…felt so much in that moment and I got lost in the moment and then we were kissing and it was glorious, it was cinematic, but not as _Romeo + Juliet_ as I’d’ve liked. I want to apologize for…pushing you like that.”

Isak looks at him quizzically. He hadn’t pushed Isak to do anything he hadn’t _wanted_ to.

“Even, I kissed you, you do know that, right?”

“What? No, you didn’t. I was holding your wrists—”

“Lightly. I could’ve escaped them, but I didn’t want to. I was more ready than even I thought, you know? It might as well have been my first kiss. It meant more than any other one I’ve ever had. Even if I’d fucked everything up between us, it still meant more than any of the others. It always will.”

Even stares at him, eyebrows raised high. The hint of a smile curls the edges of his lips and Isak returns it.

“Really?”

Isak nods, hands the middle of his sandwich to Even who trades it for his crusts. Isak eats them, satisfied, and laughs a little.

“Remember when I said I’d hooked up with Emma?” At Even’s nod, Isak continues. “Well, I was smoking with Jonas and Mahdi and Magnus…and Magnus started to tell us about a dream he’d had, right?”

Even grins and laughs. He, too, knew where the story would’ve usually gone. A questionably kinky, unrelentingly heterosexual dream. Typically about a blonde girl. Occasionally about Vilde.

“Well, he said he dreamt about you!” Isak grins. “Said you’d asked to kiss him and he’d said yes and that it was hot as fuck!”

Even’s eyes widen and he laughs, his face twisted up beautifully. Isak wishes he’d never stop smiling. He’s so fucking ethereal.

“That’s so fucking odd, man. Magnus? Holy fuck. I _do_ have a thing for blonds, though,” he nudges Isak with his shoulder and winks.

Isak bursts into laughter. He can’t believe he’d almost let himself give up on _this ._

-

Isak goes to see his mum two days later. He and Even had talked through most of the night, slept most of the next day, and then ate dinner with Even’s mum who was glad to see him eating more than a few bites.

Isak was sort of extremely glad, too. 

He lets Even come with him when he asks because he’s not sure he can do it alone. Even’s always been a support system for Isak and this is no different.

They step inside the house Isak used to call home and Isak’s mum is seated at the kitchen table. She glances at him and just stares, face blank, eyes blank, just blinking. Isak swallows hard and crosses the room to stand in front of her, Even just a few steps behind.

“Mum,” he says and the word strangles him, twists his tongue into knots that block his throat. “I’m so sorry.”

“For what?” She asks and then she’s standing in front of him, so small and frail and why hadn’t Isak seen it from the beginning? Why is he always the last to realize something?

“For leaving you here alone, for being angry with you, for hating you for the things your illness caused. For all the shit I’ve said and done that’s ever hurt you. I didn’t want to hurt you. I wanted to hurt me and it was…so fucking wrong of me to take it out on you.”

“Isak,” she smiles and reaches for his arms. “You’re my son. Children aren’t supposed to be grateful. They’re supposed to eat all of your food and spend all of your money and get angry at you and say things they regret. If I had expected any different, I wouldn’t’ve had you. There’s no need to apologize because you’ve done nothing wrong. God forgives all.”

Isak shudders a bit. Takes a step away from her hands. Closes his eyes.

“I have something else to tell you. I don’t know how you’re going to react to it, but I just…hope you still love me. I…I’m gay, mum. I know your religion clashes with that and that you might be sad or upset that your only son’s an abom—your only son’s _gay,_ but God created everyone equally. In his image. I’m…I’m sorry if I’ve disappointed you…but I was…I was born this way.”

Isak takes another step back so he’s in line with Even, can feel his knuckles against his own, and is comforted by it. It eases the ache in his chest, the anxiety in his veins.

Isak’s mum stares at him for an indecipherable amount of time. It could be seconds or days. Isak can’t look away from her blank stare.

When she speaks, it’s carefully, like she’s standing in front of sleeping babies and doesn’t want to disturb them. Like she’s afraid Isak will break if she isn’t gentle enough.

It scares him a little. A lot. Even’s knuckles brush his again.

“You’re my son, Isak. I…I’ve loved you from the second you were born and I’ll love you to the second I die. No matter what.”

Isak’s jaws wobbles and he takes three steps to reach out and hug her. She doesn’t hesitate to hold him back.

Suddenly, he’s seven years old again and his mum’s singing him a lullaby in his room and he’s begging her to check the closet for a monster, for something big and bad and terrifying that might possibly eat him in his sleep, and she’s comforting him and whispering the secret that not all monsters are scary. Not everything that hides in a closet is bad.

Some monsters are misunderstood, she’d said. Surely the monster in his closet is just there to watch him sleep. He wouldn’t dare hurt Isak. Wouldn’t dare even try.

“I love you, mum.”

“And I, you, my beautiful boy.”

-

He and Even walk away from Isak’s house with only a few millimetres of space between their hanging hands. Isak looks up at him, swallows his nerves, and reaches to twist his fingers with Even’s.

Even glances at him out of the corner of his eye and smirks. Isak smiles and looks at the road in front of them.

He knows it’s going to be tough. Everything in Isak’s life is, but he’s determined to make the best of the bad and he knows Even will always be with him, no matter what.

“So about the flat…” Even says. “Should we start looking? I’ve made a list of necessities.”

“Like what?”

“A washing machine, for starters. A fully functioning stove for late breakfasts. Neighbours who won’t mind too much noise.”

“A shower for exceptionally tall people. Don’t forget that,” Isak teases. “Otherwise you’ll have to crouch to wash your hair.”

“Luckily, you don’t have to worry about that.”

Isak pushes him a little and makes an indignant sound.

“I am quite tall!” He objects. “You’re just a giant.”

“A giant?”

“Fuck yeah. You’re so tall Nicholas Hoult’s been sent to slay you.”

“Who?” Even kicks at a pebble and it skitters into the road.

“Nicholas Hoult? From _Jack The Giant Slayer_?”

Even makes a face and Isak groans. How can anyone judge a movie they’ve never seen?

“He was in Warm Bodies, too, wasn’t he? The zombie?”

“Yeah. R. Not my favourite zombie film, but it wasn’t awful.”

“You know what’s truly awful?” Even looks at him with honest eyes and Isak waits for his response. “Your film taste. God, it’s absolutely _wretched.”_

“Kiss my arse.”

Even’s face twists up into his beautiful smile again and Isak smiles at the ground.

They chatter the rest of the way, teasing and light conversation flowing naturally between then like it always has. When they get inside, Even’s mum is gone, so Isak’s sure she’s at work. He pauses in the living room and looks up at Even with soft eyes.

“Can I…Would you…” He struggles to find the words.

“What’s that?”

“Can I…kiss you?”

Even’s twisted grin is twice as beautiful as it normally is which should be an accomplishment. Isak was sure Even couldn’t get anymore stunning.

He’s happy to be wrong, though.

“Of course!”

So Isak, awkwardly and a little shyly, reaches forward to grab Even by the edge of his jacket and tug him forward. He leans up and Even meets him halfway, skin still chilly from the air outside.

It’s not heated, but it’s so fucking full of passion it burns inside Isak’s blood like electricity. Even holds his face and kisses him like he has all the time in the world, leisurely.

Isak kisses him like he hopes it’ll never end.

-

A few months later, Even hosts a screening for his film.

He invites all of their friends—the Bakka boys crowd around him like nothing had happened between them at all—and everyone sits around Even’s mum’s living room with bowls of snacks and bottles of soda or beer and watches.

Isak sits on the floor squished between Even and Eva, a bowl of M&Ms on his lap, and waits for the TV to light up.

“This is going to be awesome,” he hears Eva say beside him to Vilde who’s curled up beneath her arm. “Even’s got an eye for this type of thing.”

Isak grins and silently agrees. Even truly does. He scans the room and spots Sana and Yousef, standing off to the side talking to each other in soft voices. He can’t hear them over Vilde’s high-pitched replies, but he imagines they’re talking about something important to them. Maybe religion. Maybe each other. Who knows.

He sees Noora and Jonas off by the window, sees Noora showing him something on her phone, and makes a face. He wonders when that happened.

Isak reaches for Even’s hand when someone in the room dims the lights and he squeezes. He, of course, knows what the film’s about, but seeing it in its totality will be something completely different. He just knows it.

The intro to the film is a black screen. The edges curl into pictures, twist into still life sketches of boys and girls and dogs and buildings. Isak stares in wonder as the picture zooms out, focusing on a set of words. The title.

**_Alt er love._ **

Isak looks over at Even and, without glancing around, without worrying about what anyone around them might think, he leans over and kisses him. He kisses him without fear because he trusts everyone in the room implicitly. In fact, he’d trust anyone of them with his life.

Well, everyone except for maybe Magnus.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you so much for reading and for the comments! They're the most important resource a writer has!!!

**Author's Note:**

> Title adapted from 'Liability' by Lorde


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